


Puppy ex Machina

by riseofthefallenone



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (attempted with some success), (via image inducer), Bisexual Peter, Blowjobs, Crossdressing, First Kiss, Fluff, Frottage, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, M/M, Minor whump, POV Peter, Pansexual Wade, Pre-Relationship, Present Tense, Stan Lee Cameo, Third Person Limited, Wade wears a dress at some point, but when is there not with these two idiots, mentioned past Peter/Felicia, minor hurt/comfort, past Peter/Mary Jane, pretty!Wade, sugar daddy!wade, very slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 83,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riseofthefallenone/pseuds/riseofthefallenone
Summary: A year after his divorce, Peter is trapped in a depressive cycle and still not quite over Mary Jane. When she shows up at his door, begging him to watch her dog for a week while she leaves town, he can’t really bring himself to say “no”. No one was expecting that little Pomeranian to turn his life around and help him realize that his friendship with Wade has been teetering on the edge of something more for a while.
Relationships: Peter B. Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 24
Kudos: 104
Collections: Spideypool Big Bang - The 2020 Collection





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Artist/Beta: Jennicide ([Tumblr](http://prose-aplenty.tumblr.com) | [Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide)) Big love to Jenn for making my very first big bang ever super easy and lots of fun ♥ Go read her [awesome big bang](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112846) too!  
> Beta: crookedswingset ([Ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedswingset)) put hecka work in as exchange for betaing their amazing SPBB (coming up on the 25th!). You better go read it! 
> 
> Special thanks to [Nimohtar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimohtar/pseuds/Nimohtar) for helping me figure out parts of the storyline and bouncing ideas around with me, and to [LunaStories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaStories/pseuds/LunaStories) for talking me into doing the SPBB in the first place! ♥ 
> 
> References to Peter B. Parker from Into the Spider-Verse mixed with some of what I know of 616. References to MCU Deadpool also mixed with what I know of 616.
> 
> Prompt by thelonebamf on the Spideypool Isn’t It Bromantic Discord Server  
> 

Peter jerks awake a good two hours before his alarm, or at least he thinks so. His vision is a little blurry, and his eyelashes are clumped together, making it hard to read the crappy alarm clock crammed between various things on his bookcase. He’s had that thing since forever, and it still works like a charm. But it’s definitely not what woke him. He glances around his shoebox of an apartment, wondering what did.

It can’t be his spidey-sense, because it isn’t going off, which means there’s nothing dangerous around. Probably. But something _definitely_ woke him. Peter knows it. He doesn’t just _wake up_ like this for absolutely nothing. As far as his fuzzy sleep-deprived brain can remember, he didn’t have a nightmare. Not tonight, at least. No, not today. It’s—God, it’s so _early,_ and he only crawled into bed a few hours ago.

He knuckles his eyes and glances around his little bachelor suite again. Nothing is different. Peter is sitting up in the bed in the corner by the only window in the place where it faces a brick wall that barely lets in any light. Perfect for the superhero who likes to come and go without much notice. His kitchen takes up the far wall, and the door to the bathroom separates the tile from the end of the bed.

Peter eyes his closet, wondering if something fell over in there. The closet is opposite the bed, and next to that is a very full bookcase overflowing with books and knickknacks. Everything there looks to be in place. A TV table is shoved up against the closet door and still has the glass of water and wrapping from the frozen burrito he managed to down before he passed out earlier.

It’s only a moment for him to take this all in. When nothing seems to jump out at him, he slumps back down and curls up, ready to go back to sleep. And then someone pounds on his door, and he jumps right back up again, suddenly _very_ aware of what it was that must have woken him.

“Peter Benjamin Parker!” The walls and door are basically constructed of toilet paper, and his visitor might as well be shouting in his ear for how well he can hear it. That voice, however, makes Peter’s stomach sink and his heart jump into his throat. “You open this door _right now_. I know you’re in there!”

They’ve been divorced for nearly a year now, but Peter is still conditioned to react to that particular tone of voice. He leaps off the bed, jumps over the piles of clothing that cover the floor, and only trips once on the legs of his spidey-suit. Crap. Normally, he’s better about putting that away, and he pauses to kick it underneath the bed where it’s not so easily seen.

There’s a mirror mounted to the back of the door, and Peter takes a moment to try and make his hair not look like a bird’s nest. Unfortunately, there’s no saving it without a shower being involved, and he yanks the door open before more pounding can begin. Last thing he needs is his neighbours to give him crap for causing a disturbance before eight o’clock in the morning.

Mary Jane looks _very_ out of place standing in the hall of this building with her perfectly styled hair falling in curls around her shoulders, the wrinkle-free pants suit obviously tailored to her form, the designer shoes, and just _everything about her_. The paint is peeling, the lights flicker, and the carpet is stained by unknown horrors. The landlady, Mrs. Takamoto, at least takes great pride in keeping it dirt free. She vacuums and dusts almost daily, so that’s nice. It still doesn’t make it easier for Peter to accept that _Mary Jane Watson_ is standing in his doorway.

“Were you still sleeping?” She frowns at him, her hands on her hips. “It’s two in the afternoon, Peter.”

“What?” He blinks and steps back to look at his alarm clock again. “My clock says it’s…” Oh no. He flicks the light switch next to the door a few times and frowns up at the light hanging in the middle of his room. It doesn’t even flicker. “Power’s out.” Good thing his fridge is empty.

But at least that means he definitely got more sleep than he thought he did.

With a sigh, Mary Jane pinches the bridge of her nose. “Did you pay the electric bill?”

“Uh–” Peter scratches absently at the scruff on his chin. “Maybe?” He thinks about it and remembers that he chose to pay his rent over the electric bill at the end of last month. “No, probably not.”

Mary Jane gives him the kind of look that makes him think she’s re-evaluating her life choices, especially the ones that led her to marrying him in the first place. Peter looks away and then down at himself, and he realizes that he’s wearing nothing but his underwear and webshooters. His housecoat is hanging next to the door, and he grabs that, slipping it on quickly.

“So—uh—what brings you here, MJ?” He ties the coat tightly and tries for a smile that doesn’t look like he’s almost dead on his feet.

She ignores his question entirely and narrows her eyes at him. That look used to send a different kind of thrill down his spine. These days, it just makes him want to cower in a corner and wallow in shame. “What time did you go to bed?”

Peter shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest, looking away. “The sun was coming up. That’s all I can tell you.” He shifts on his feet, hating the grilling now as much as he did when they were married. “You know that I work nights.”

“Oh, yes.” She rolls her eyes and huffs. “Your ‘ _work_ ’.” She even uses air quotes, and that stings, but then Mary Jane goes soft and her frown is more concerned than scornful. “You’re going to kill yourself with that work of yours.”

It’s hard to look her in the eye when she says stuff like that. “Can we not have this argument again?”

They’re both fully aware of how she feels about his nighttime activities. Spider-Man, and therefore Peter, is mostly responsible for breaking up their marriage. It was as amicable a divorce as one could have, but it still hurts—especially for Peter. He still loves her, and always will.

Sighing, Peter unclips his webshooters and tosses them back towards the bed. “Why are you here, MJ?”

That question changes her entire demeanor. Suddenly she’s loose and soft and fluttering her eyelashes like she used to when she talked him into helping her with her homework. “I need a favour.”

With his suspicions _immediately_ on high, Peter crosses his arms again. Now it’s _his_ turn to give her a squinty look. “What _kind_ of favour?”

“This kind!” Mary Jane bends down to pick up a massive tote bag that has been resting at her feet.

She shoves the bag into his arms, and Peter glances down to see what it is. It’s filled to the brim with a big bag of kibble, a bowl, a leash, several rolls of what Peter immediately recognizes as baggies used to pick up dog poop, and, wrapped around it all, is a _dog bed_.

Oh no.

“MJ!” He holds the bag out. “I _can’t_!”

“You’re my last option, Pete. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have any other choice.” She picks up another bag, tucked out of sight from the door. “I’ve got a job taking me out of town for the next week, and I can’t bring her with me.”

Peter backpedals away from the door and the bag, which is just a fancy looking purse that has a crescent-shaped hole cut out of one of the corners. It’s zipped closed, and there’s a little white face sticking out of the hole, watching him with round black eyes and a little twitching black nose.

“MJ, c’mon, no. I—I can’t!” He’s just too busy. Between scrambling to get in hours at the Bugle and being Spider-Man, Peter barely has the time to take care of himself, let alone take care of another living, breathing thing. He wasn’t even able to keep a frikken _goldfish_ alive for longer than a few months, and he still hasn’t told Aunt May about that.

“ _Please_ , Peter?” She gives him the kind of pout that he’s never been able to say ‘no’ to. “It’ll just be for a week. I’ll even pay you!”

The money does make him hesitate. Even if it’s just fifty dollars she wants to give him, that would be of some help. But that still doesn’t change the _other_ problem. “But I’m not allowed pets.” If Mrs. Takamoto had found out about the goldfish, she would have been _ticked_.

“Oh, don’t worry about Yuriko.” Mary Jane laughs and flaps a hand. “I spoke to her already. She’s a fan. All I had to do was give her an autograph, and she was willing to let you watch Aurora for a week.”

Peter presses his lips together and tries, desperately, to think of some other reason for why he can’t watch her dog. Nothing comes to mind aside from the whole _Spider-Man_ thing, and that stopped working as an excuse with Mary Jane long before their divorce.

Eventually, he concedes with a heavy sigh and drops the bag of stuff on the end of his bed. “Fine.” He holds his hands out, and MJ carefully gives him the bag holding the dog. “Just transfer the money to my bank account and send me all her care information. Don’t act like she doesn’t have some kind of _routine_ or something. I know you, and I remember how you were when you got her.”

Mary Jane just smiles brightly at him and draws an envelope from her purse. She hands it over. “Here’s a thousand dollars. I know it’s a lot, but she has a grooming appointment on Thursday. I’ll text you the details. Please take her.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter feels uncomfortable holding this much cash, and he tosses it onto the kitchen counter. It’s a _ton_ of money, way more than is necessary to watch a dog for a week and take her to an appointment, but he needs it so… Not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, even when it’s one that’s throwing a dog-shaped wrench in his routine.

“Thank you, Tiger. Really.” She steps close enough to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I really appreciate this, and I should be back in a week to get her. I’ll keep you up to date on my schedule.” Mary Jane ducks down to the little face poking out of the bag in Peter’s arms. “Buh-bye, sweetie.” She kisses her on the nose and scratches under her chin. “You’ll be good for Peter, won’t you? Of course you will, my good girl. Bye, Aurora. Bye!”

Slowly, Mary Jane backs away. She’s waving and baby-talking the whole time, leaving Peter no room to get a word in edgewise. When she’s back in the hall, she grabs the handle and—with one last goodbye—shuts the door behind her.

Peter sighs heavily and sinks down to sit on the edge of his bed. He opens the bag and lifts Aurora out of it carefully. She’s just as white, soft, and fluffy as she was the last time he saw her—at the signing of the divorce papers. Aurora sits primly next to him on the bed, head twisting back and forth while she looks around the room.

“She’s gotten better at lying to me.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees and chin propped in his hands. That’s not a good thing, and it leaves a sour feeling in his stomach.

Even though it’s not a good thing for him to do, Peter has made it a point to keep up to date on Mary Jane’s social media accounts. He followed her when he was married to her, and she didn’t block him when they divorced. Even though he should have, he never unfollowed her, so it’s been a way for him to stay in the know of what’s going on in her life. Especially since they barely talk. Amicable though the divorce may have been, there’s still a lot of bitterness— _hurt_ —involved for Peter.

But he knows from her tweets over the last few days that she’s going to Los Angeles. It’s not for a job, like she claimed straight to his face, but for a new place to live. Well, technically, it _is_ for a job too, actually. Finally, after years of auditions, Mary Jane snagged herself a recurring role on a popular TV show that films in _California_.

Yes, she’s probably going to go for a gamut of interviews and to argue her contract with the show, but she’s going to be _house hunting_ too. And it breaks Peter’s heart. New York is such a crucial part of him and his life that Mary Jane Watson leaving New York feels like she’s leaving _him_ all over again.

She’s _moving_. Peter groans and rubs his hands over his face. _Moving_. When she comes back next week, it’s to pack up her life here and officially move it all across the country. And then he’ll never see her again and that—God, how is he supposed to deal with that? At least if she was here in New York, he had the possibility of bumping into her, or he could swing by on his Spider-Man routes to make sure that she was okay.

Any time he’s seen her, she’s always been fine. Of course she has. Mary Jane always had a good head on her shoulders. Her home life was terrible while growing up, sure, but once she got out of that? She was great. She had a good position in an office as her day job, and in the evenings, she acted. That was always her goal, and she never lost it. She kept working hard at it until she was doing big-name shows, small TV parts, and now look at her!

It’s a weird mix of pride and heartbreak when Peter thinks about how Mary Jane is moving forward. She’s leaving him behind in so many ways, and the space between them yawns wider and wider with every passing day.

A small noise at his hip has Peter sitting back to look down at the dog. He sighs and ruffles the fur between her ears. “You’re just as cute as always. Don’t you ever change?”

Aurora (or, Aura, as he’s always called her) was adopted by Mary Jane a month or so before they decided that divorce was the best way to save their relationship. Peter didn’t get to know her very well since he wasn’t often home, and she was always more Mary Jane’s dog than his. Mary Jane was the one who wanted company because Peter was always working his butt off at the Bugle or patrolling his butt off as Spider-Man.

Originally, she had wanted a kid. She wanted to have one before her acting career really took off, and Peter was the jerk who said ‘no’. Having a baby would just be another person for him to worry about if any of his rogues gallery discovered his secret identity. He was stressed enough when it was just Aunt May, but then Mary Jane was added to the mix and… Well, how many times did Harry try to use her against him when he went off his rocker?

God, _Harry_. That’s a whole different story right there.

Aurora yips lightly at him, and her whole body starts wiggling the longer he looks at her. She puts a paw on his leg, and he can’t help but crack a smile at that little face. Dammit, she’s cute. And he kind of missed her, just a little. Not that he knows her very well.

Curse Mary Jane for dumping Aurora on him. The longer he looks at that little face, the more _guilty_ he feels. Not because she belongs to the ex-wife he let down by being a piece of crap husband, but because now there’s this little life that he has to care for, and how is he supposed to be away from home as often as he is when she’s here? Mary Jane knew _exactly_ what she was doing when she left Aurora with him. _Darn it_.

Peter glances around the room and frowns. It’s a small space, but it’s messy and cluttered. Aurora stands out like a sore thumb against it all. She’s like a princess in a troll cave, and that doesn’t sit well with him for some reason. She deserves better.

With a heavy grunt, Peter gets to his feet and starts cleaning up just a little. He needs to make space for her stuff anyways. He pulls a chew toy out of the bag that Mary Jane left and tosses it to Aurora to play with while he tidies up.

First to tackle is his clothing. Peter fills the tub and throws his spidey-suit in it with a scoop of homemade cleaner. He mixes it up with an old broom handle, stirring the tub like it was a big cauldron, and leaves it to soak for a while. In a bit, he’ll rinse it out and hang it from the shower bar to dry. The rest of his clothing gets shoved into a massive bag and propped by the front door. It’s about time he took a load to the laundromat down the street.

The garbage situation isn’t that bad, but it still fills a small bag. Peter pulls on a clean pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and takes the garbage to the chute at the end of the hall. It only really fits plastic bags and kitchen catcher-sized bags, but Peter shoves it through, not sticking around to listen to it clatter down into the dumpster outside.

Peter does the dishes sitting in the sink, and he sweeps and dusts. It makes him sneeze something like twenty times, and that’s just not _fair_. He has superhuman spider powers! Shouldn’t they stop him from having dust allergies? The mutation fixed his poor eyesight and his asthma. Why wouldn’t it fix that too? It’s just so _annoying_.

Once everything is put away where it belongs, his little shoebox actually feels a little bigger. Peter even went to the effort of changing his sheets and making the bed. Granted, there wasn’t much stuff here to start with. Everything that he bothered to take with him from Aunt May’s when he moved out is crammed on the bookshelf. He left a lot of personal items, and he’s cut back on furniture.

After the divorce, he spent one month living with Aunt May before he managed to find this crappy little apartment that met his needs as Spider-Man. In the months since then, Peter sold the things he didn’t absolutely need because he had bills to cover; the divorce left him _very_ broke, more so than usual.

It hurt to sell his TV and gaming systems, but it’s not like Peter really had time for them anyway, so those are all gone. The only thing Peter has left is his ancient, cracked smartphone and a laptop that lives solely because he has sticky fingers and goes dumpster diving on occasion. Specifically, he might relieve certain villains from some of the stuff he finds in their labs. Villains have all _sorts_ of tech up for grabs, if you know where to look.

By the time he’s ready to head out, his spandex is air-drying in the bathroom, and Aurora has sniffed her way around the whole place. Peter has a second suit that he swaps back and forth between because it really doesn’t do him any good to swing around reeking of body odour and God knows what else. He learned that lesson after an hour catching his breath in a dumpster (not by choice, mind you), and the resulting stink clinging to him is what led Aunt May to discover that he’s Spider-Man.

Yeah, that wasn’t a shining moment in his superhero career.

It’s become a habit for him to put the suit on underneath his regular clothes. His mask and gloves get tucked into a secret pocket on the inside of his coat. The webshooters actually look like bracelets until he gives his arm a good shake to snap out the little flip up bit that rests at the base of his palm. He’s gotten pretty good at using them in a pinch.

He’s also halfway decent at hiding his suit too. The sleeves just get pushed up, and his pants are baggy enough that no one usually sees the boots under his cuffs. If they do, he just gets compliments on his cool socks. It only took him a few panic attacks to start wearing oversized socks over the top of them. Sure, no one expects frumpy looking Peter Parker to be Spider-Man (Which… Ouch.), but he doesn’t want to take that chance.

As soon as Peter picks up the leash and stuffs a roll of poo bags in his pocket, Aurora is immediately right there at his feet. She bounces in circles and makes soft yip-like sounds that aren’t quite full barks but still obviously _very_ excited.

“Yeah, girl, you know what’s going on.” He crouches down to her and roots around in the fur around her neck to find the collar. The leash clips neatly alongside the tags, and she goes right to the door, looking back at him expectantly.

Peter laughs and starts putting on his shoes (a size too big to accommodate the thinly soled boots of his suit). “Gimme a second.”

Before he can leave, he checks that he has everything. Wallet, mask, gloves, cell phone—oh, he has missed messages. Well, he’s been awake for a bit and hasn’t checked his phone yet, so these must have been from this morning.

There’s one from Betty at the Bugle, telling him to be in by ten o’clock tomorrow with pictures of Spider-Man, and that she has a few things she needs him to edit. Good, that guarantees him a paycheck this week. He replies and puts it in his calendar so he doesn’t forget.

After that, there are a few from Mary Jane, demanding that he answer his phone. They’re paired with two missed calls, and it’s kinda sad that he was out cold so hard that he didn’t hear it ring. She must have been out in the hall and calling him, hearing it ring on the other side of the door, and that’s why she was so sure that he was here.

The final message is from skull emoji, poop emoji, capital letter ‘L’. Peter wasn’t the one who picked that label when the number was put in his phone a few years ago. The ringtone has changed a bunch of times (currently it’s [“Careless Whisper” by Wham!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDKn5BGTGMM), and Wade insisted Peter use it because “ _it’ll be so Meta, Spidey, you gotta use it!_ ”), but the name remained.

 **_> > Taking the week off! Don’t miss me too much! _ ** **😘🥰**

It isn’t unusual for Wade to randomly announce that he won’t be joining Peter on patrols for a while. He does it every few months, or sometimes takes a whole weekend off. Peter assumes it’s because he’s getting jobs that eat up a lot of his time or even take him out of town, which is fine. After all the time they’ve spent together, he trusts that Wade isn’t killing anymore.

Most of the time, anyway.

But these random breaks almost seem like Wade drops right off the map. There’s never any sign of him acting up in other parts of the world. Heck, he even goes mostly silent with Spider-Man too. And then he comes back from his week all perky and mysterious, claiming he just needs a vacation every now and then. Peter can’t help being a _little_ suspicious (and envious) about that.

Yes, everyone deserves a vacation. It’s just that Wade— _Deadpool_ —doesn’t seem to strike him as the kind of guy who takes time off. Back when they first met, when Peter hated him right down to his _guts_ and wanted nothing to do with him, Wade won him over with his tenacity. Part of it was pity too because, once Peter was able to see past the bloodlust and shenanigans, he could see that Wade was a broken man.

He was fractured and fragmented from a hard life that never gave him a chance to be better. If it wasn’t for Ben and May, Peter could very easily have ended up the same as Wade, using his powers for himself instead of others. Heck, he might even have been okay with taking lives. There are so many ways things could have been _different,_ and the fact that Peter could see himself in Wade made him hate him— _fear him_ —all the more.

And then, miraculously, Wade won him over.

About three years ago, he wore Peter down and begged him for help on his crusade for self-improvement. Now, Wade patrols with him almost every night that he’s out, and sometimes he picks up the slack all on his own if there’s something that keeps Peter from getting out himself. He’s still a loose cannon on occasion, and he might slip up every now and then and someone dies, but those have become so few and far between.

They even have a running total of how long it’s been since he killed someone! Peter keeps track of it on his phone, and it’s been almost half a year at this point, which is _great_. That’s his longest streak yet, and Wade works _hard_ not to break it, no matter how much he might be tempted to. He wants to be better because he wants to be someone that Spider-Man can be proud of and—well, darn if that doesn’t make Peter go soft and squishy on the inside.

He smiles down at his phone and types out a quick reply.

 _< < Enjoy your week off! Stuff came up today and I won’t make it out tonight. Don’t be worried if you don’t see me swinging around. _😊

The smile falls off his face as he puts his phone away. Honestly, Peter _hates_ not patrolling. If anything big happens tonight because he wasn’t out there, then it’s on his shoulders. He should be there, but—

Peter looks down at Aurora where she’s waiting in wiggling anticipation at the door. The guilt surges again, and he utters a silent apology to the rest of New York. They’re going to have to mostly fend for themselves this week. It isn’t fair of Mary Jane to leave Aurora in a small, strange place with someone she barely got to know before the divorce. As much as he’d rather be out and about as Spider-Man, Peter can’t just leave Aurora here alone and risk her getting upset and peeing all over his apartment, or something equally horrible.

It's really for the best that he takes the night off to help her settle.

But before he can do that, he has laundry to do.

With the massive bag of laundry slung over his shoulder, Peter grabs his keys off the hook and heads out into the hall with Aurora leading the way. She pulls on the leash, but it has as much of an effect on him as a gentle breeze would. Peter ignores the pulling as he locks the door and tests the knob to make sure that it actually takes this time. He’s had issues with it not locking before.

Satisfied, he gives in and lets Aurora drag him outside. As soon as they hit the sidewalk, she touches her nose to the pavement and starts sniffing around. Peter encourages her to move in the direction of the laundromat, but it’s slow going as she has to sniff out every tree, fire hydrant, and—well, every surface they pass along the way.

There’s a scruffy patch of dirt in a place where there _used_ to be a tree. It was long gone before Peter ever moved into this dump of a borough, but it seems to meet Aurora’s requirements. She squats for a pee, and Peter quickly averts his eyes. Last thing he needs is for his neighbours to label him as some kind of freak. They already think of him as a recluse who gets beat up a lot.

Once she’s finished her business, there’s a lot less sniffing going on. Aurora trots along happily beside him, her stark white coat standing out against the grimy concrete. He might have to give her a bath after every walk because she’s going to collect every ounce of dirt they pass while they’re out.

And that would explain why Mary Jane always brought her around in that bag. Dang.

When they get to the laundromat, Peter doesn’t even consider tying her up outside. Mary Jane would _kill him_ if anything happened to Aurora. Sure, he could probably chase down anyone who tried to steal her fairly easily, but that might out him as Spider-Man and… Well, it’s best to just avoid that situation entirely.

Once that’s decided (fairly easily), Peter scoops her up and tucks her under his other arm as he ducks inside. The door is perpetually propped open when the owner is in, and, sure enough, old Mr. Lee with his white hair and moustache is sitting behind his desk in the corner. It doesn’t matter the time of day or the weather, he’s always sporting a pair of sunglasses.

Peter tries to remain inconspicuous as he picks a machine farthest from the owner’s desk. He puts Aurora on the machine next to him and taps her nose. “Sit.” She drops her butt and cocks her head to the side, watching him. “Good girl.” He’ll give her a treat later.

Aurora watches him as he loads up his machine. Peter didn’t bring soap, but there’s a dispenser in the corner by the owner’s desk that will issue you a load’s worth of powder for a quarter. It’s the cheapest he’s ever found, and it’s better than buying his own box, given how often he actually does his laundry here. Sometimes he just brings it with him to May’s and–

Oh. He could have done that today. Peter has a standing Sunday dinner date with May, and it didn’t even occur to him that he should have just waited a few hours to bring it with him there.

Screw it! It’s too late to pull his stuff out of the machine and head home.

While he’s getting the soap, Peter watches Aurora like a hawk. She doesn’t move. Just sits there with her little tongue lolling out as she looks around the place. Mr. Lee raises an eyebrow at him as he passes the desk, but Peter just gives him a tight smile and a nod in greeting. He speed-walks back to his machine and dumps the soap in.

As soon as it starts chugging along, he sets a timer on his phone as a reminder. Since dogs aren’t technically allowed in here, he probably shouldn’t sit in the waiting area for his washing to be done. There’s a sad excuse for a park nearby and, if he pays attention to the timer, he can take her for a walk there and still make it back in time before the load ends. It’s frowned upon to leave your stuff unattended, but Peter would rather lose those rags than be banned for sticking around with a dog.

Mr. Lee clears his throat as Peter is leaving. “I’ll keep an eye on it for you.” He smiles, wide and kind, and Peter has no idea why he’s ever found him intimidating.

“Thank you.” Peter ducks his head in another nod and slips back out onto the sidewalk.

Aurora is more than happy to be walking again. There’s a little bounce in her step as they follow the short loop around the park. There’s a smattering of trees along the perimeter and a play structure for children at the center. It’s not very crowded for mid-afternoon, but there’s a number of screaming kids running around, and Peter tries to avoid them.

Now that he’s not focusing on anything, his thoughts turn back to Mary Jane, and the melancholy really starts to set in. They’ve been divorced for a year, but he still misses her every day, and now she’s _leaving_. Of course, he’s happy for her because this is the big break that she’s been waiting for, but it’s still _sad_.

Some small part of Peter always hoped that maybe they would figure their baggage out and eventually get back together again. They’ve been together since shortly after they graduated high-school. He’s loved her for half his life, if not longer, and there’s a _void_ in the shape of _Mary Jane Watson_ in his life that hasn’t gone away. It might always be there, and–

God, he’s so _pathetic_.

Even if he was willing to compromise on the things that caused problems in their relationship (lookin’ at you, Spider-Man), it’s too late now. And he’s not really up for compromising anyways. Kids have never been in his life plan, even before Spider-Man came along and threw the whole thing in the trash.

This is really the end for them, isn’t it? Mary Jane is leaving New York, and there’s no way Peter could hope to follow after her. He’s never going to leave this city. Aunt May would never move away, and she’s still going strong like the trooper she is. Peter would _die_ before he leaves her alone here.

And, as everything always comes down to it, there’s Spider-Man. New York _needs_ him. How could Peter just up and leave all these people when there are so many psychos around? And who would keep Wade in line?

Peter isn’t blind. He knows how much Wade idolizes Spider-Man. If he were to disappear and move across the country, how would Deadpool take that? Would he revert back to the murderous mercenary he was before? Peter couldn’t do that to Wade any more than he could leave Aunt May or the people of New York.

God, just the thought of Wade’s expression falling (through the mask, of course, because even after the years they’ve been friends, they’ve never shown each other their whole faces) makes Peter’s stomach sour. Wade would do a full-body droop, and Peter feels sick just thinking about how depressed he would get. He might even start killing himself again, and that’s—No. Peter can’t do that to him.

Aurora barks sharply at a wayward squirrel, and Peter looks down at her with a sigh. “You have no idea how easy you have it, Aura.”

She looks up at him, eyes bright and body vibrating with the force of her excitement. Peter can’t help but smile at it, unable to be sad around such a ball of cuteness.

They still have to get through the rest of his laundry cycle, but there’s something they can look forward to together. “Hey, what do you think about coming with me to Aunt May’s later? I bet you haven’t seen her in a while, huh?”

Aurora barks again, almost like she’s agreeing. Peter smiles and keeps walking. He makes a mental note to swing by a bank on the way to Aunt May’s to deposit the money that Mary Jane gave him, and to make a payment to his electric bill. Maybe he’ll have the power back on by the time he gets home later this evening. Just in case, he should probably bring his cell phone and laptop with him to charge their batteries at Aunt May’s place. He’s going to need the alarm on his phone in the morning, since he can’t trust his alarm clock, considering how today started out.


	2. Monday

A small, wet tongue flicks across his cheek and something steps on his shoulder. Peter opens his eyes to a cloud of white standing on his pillow and he smiles. “G’mornin’, Aura.”

She steps on him again, this time closer to his throat, and Peter sits up to avoid being smothered by fur. Death by a cuddly dog is not how Spider-Man is going to go. His phone beeps quietly from where he left it to charge on the kitchen counter, and Peter snags it on his way to the bathroom. Aura follows him in and he shoos her out before shutting the door.

There are just some things a man needs to do in private.

While he sits to do his business, because screw trying to aim when you’ve just woken up, Peter checks his phone. There are at least eleven missed texts from Wade, and Peter scrubs the sleep from his eyes before opening them to see what it’s about.

A smile spreads across his lips as he scrolls through the messages. Apparently, Wade went out to do the patrolling in Peter’s stead, despite how he said he was taking the rest of the week off. The text messages arrived in half hour intervals, keeping Peter updated. He missed all of them because he fell asleep rather early, his body trying to catch up with the severe sleep deprivation he’s subjected himself to over the years.

Wade’s updates include pictures of every single dog he saw, a cat he saved from a tree, a picture of a mugger tied up in front of a police station (as proof that he’s alive and well), and several complaints of how boring Sunday night patrol is—particularly without Spider-Man to keep him company. Peter reads through every message with a smile, which makes it hard to brush his teeth.

He rinses and quickly sends a message.

<< _Thanks for covering for me! Tacos on me next time!_ 💕

The water for his crappy instant coffee has barely boiled before he mixes it together. He downs the sad excuse for a drink, wincing around the slight burn, and grabs Aurora’s leash where he left it on the coat hook. As soon as he has it in hand, she leaps off the bed and almost plows right into his leg.

This morning, Aurora beelines straight for her ragged patch of grass to do her business. Peter wrinkles his nose at the smell and pulls out a baggy to pick it up. He will _not_ be one of those people who leaves dog poop on the sidewalk, because that’s just _nasty_. The first garbage can they come across gets blessed with it, and they continue their walk.

Even though she hasn’t been fed yet today, Aurora is chock-full of energy. She yips occasionally and zips back and forth in front of him, stopping here and there to sniff at new places. Peter barely even feels the tug on the leash where it’s looped around his wrist, held in place by the fact that he walks with his hands in his pockets. She’s just so _tiny_ and, compared to his super strength, it’s basically nothing.

Peter has to hand it to Mary Jane, she definitely adopted the cutest dog in the world. It’s hard not to smile while they walk. If she pulls too far ahead or gets too close to another person or dog, all he has to do is give a quiet “ _Aura_ ”, and she comes trotting back to walk next to him. Credit where credit is due, Mary Jane definitely has a well-trained dog. The question stands: did she train Aurora herself or did she hire a trainer?

Knowing his ex-wife, Peter would be willing to bet the whole one-thousand dollars in his bank account that Mary Jane did the training herself. She’s that kind of person—the one to grab life by the horns and not take ‘no’ as an answer. The only immovable force she ever came up against was Peter’s guilt complex. He’s smart enough to know that it’s a large part of why he doesn’t back down when it comes to Spider-Man, and it’s screwed him over on more than one occasion.

That said, it was kind of nice to have a night off after dinner with May, instead of burning through the calories he ate with another late night patrol. And it was especially nice to have someone there when he fell asleep _hours_ earlier than usual. Peter cuddled up with Aurora on the bed and watched YouTube on his laptop until he passed out. Having her is a breath of fresh air, and having to take care of her might actually force him to take care of himself too.

It’s really a blessing that Mary Jane isn’t a mind reader. Peter could only ever admit to himself that he’s kinda happy with having to watch Aurora, though he would never actually say that _out loud_.

Their walk only takes them around the block before they head back inside. He has to get to the Bugle and he’s cutting it kind of close, which means he’s going to have to swing to work.

As soon as they’re inside the door, Aurora plops herself down in front of her empty dishes. Peter changes the water from what he put down yesterday afternoon and fills her bowl with kibble. Just before he leaves, he remembers what Mary Jane used to do, and he checks his alarm clock to see if he can turn the radio on. To his great delight, it actually turns on and a crackling version of _Highway to Hell_ fills the room.

“Hope you like classic rock.” Peter flicks the lights too, smiling when he finds they’re working as well. If he plays his cards right, between the new assignments from the Bugle and the unexpected payday from Mary Jane, he should be able to make this money stretch for a few months of bills.

Aurora pays him zero attention. She’s face-first in the bowl and chewing noisily. In fact, she doesn’t even notice him leave. Peter feels a little bad about leaving her alone, but it’s only for the work day, and he’ll be back again to take her for her afternoon walk.

To save time, Peter goes to the roof. He shoves his clothes into a backpack, dons the rest of his spidey-suit, and parkours his way across a few rooftops before taking to the air. He tries not to leave or land on the roof of the building he actually lives in, just in case someone gets wise to how many times Spider-Man is seen on a building in the area.

It’s not a very long route to swing to the Bugle’s building, so Peter adds a quick patrol to it. He even takes a moment or two to snap an extra couple of pictures of Spider-Man.

No one’s the wiser that the frumpy looking guy who walks into the office of The Daily Bugle a half hour later, just minutes before Betty told him to be there, is actually New York’s notorious webhead. Peter has a certain pep to his step that he hasn’t had in a while, and even Jameson berating his pictures (despite buying a handful of them) isn’t enough to bring down his mood.

He doesn’t know exactly _what_ has him in such high spirits. Maybe it’s two long sleeps in a row? Actually _relaxing_ for a day instead of running himself ragged? Who knows! Either way, he’s almost _smiling_ when he snags a donut from the break room and drops into one of the open cubicles to get to work. There are some image files in his email that Betty wants him to edit, and he’s more than happy to make a couple extra bucks doing that for her.

Peter is more or less a part-timer. One might even say he works here _casually_. He’s been trying to get hired on as a regular photographer—the kind that gets to go out with the reporters and take actual pictures. Might as well turn his hobby, and the only thing he really does _well_ , into his cash cow. It’s sure as heck the only thing paying his bills.

At this point, not including the money Mary Jane just gave him, Peter’s primary source of income from the Bugle are the pictures of Spider-Man that he manages to collect. It’s a wonder that no one has figured out that the only guy able to get good pictures of Spider-Man, is Spider-Man himself. He’s not exactly subtle about it.

Sadly, Peter can’t afford his _true_ passion. Photography was only ever a hobby. The sciences are where his heart really lies, but his biochemistry degree is unfinished, and he’s not sure he’ll actually be able to afford ever going back for it.

Heck, Peter is so broke that sometimes he can’t afford to make his webbing. More than once it’s come down to him repurposing supplies from a villain’s lab, raiding them after he’s kicked their butts, and then sneaking into the labs at the nearest university. It doesn’t leave him with the greatest feeling, but Peter has to use their equipment to make as many cartridges of web-fluid as he can manage before he gets caught.

Man, he really should have worked harder to keep up the friendship he had with Johnny Storm over the years. Maybe if they were still friends, he wouldn’t feel awkward about the idea of asking if he could use the Fantastic Four’s labs. Sure, Reed is a cool guy and would probably be fine with lending out some lab space if he asked, but Peter just can’t bring himself to do it.

Same with Tony Stark. Granted, he would be Peter’s _last_ choice when it comes to asking favours. Nothing is free where Tony is concerned. If he didn’t hover and outright steal the web formula, he would expect some kind of quid-pro-quo. And Peter just doesn’t like the idea of being indebted to _Iron Man_ of all people.

Wow, speak of the devil. The first picture he opens to start editing is Iron Man and Captain America doing some kind of announcement at the base of the Avengers’ tower. The rest of the Avengers are standing lined up behind them, and Peter feels the faintest stab of envy.

Once upon a time, he would have given _anything_ to be an Avenger. As much as he appreciates all the work they do on a grandiose _worldwide_ scale, Peter quickly realized just how much their club didn’t care for the little people. They were too obsessed with the big picture, and that didn’t sit right with him. Someone needs to take care of the day to day, and Peter decided that he’d much rather stop rapists and muggers than fly across the world to subdue some kind of alien uprising or the like.

Welp. Time to get to editing.

For the first time in a _really_ long time, Peter rushes (almost) straight home after work. There wasn’t actually that much to edit, so it only took him a few hours to do. But then Betty managed to find him more work to do, like the doll that she is, and he managed to get another couple hours of billable time before calling it quits in the mid-afternoon.

Peter turns his trip home into another quick patrol, with the only exciting thing being saving a cat from getting hit by a car. Part of him feels bad that he’s rushing home _now_ , when a year ago he wouldn’t do that for Mary Jane, and she was the love of his life.

Darn. Here comes the wave of self-hatred, right on cue.

Peter sighs and changes quickly in the shadows on the roof. He knows he screwed up his relationship with Mary Jane by not compromising. But she was so self-sufficient and was almost as busy as him. It was just at night when she was really alone. Unlike her, Aurora actually _needs_ him. Mary Jane wouldn’t have peed in his bed if he ignored her for too long.

Okay, she could have. But she never did.

She’s classy like that.

Even though he’s expecting it, Peter is still pleasantly surprised to be welcomed home so enthusiastically when he walks in. Aurora comes tearing out of the bathroom, skittering across the crappy fake hardwood planks to almost run straight into his leg. Her whole body is vibrating in excitement and it’s probably one of the cutest things Peter has ever seen.

He hates to say it, but Mary Jane was never _this_ excited about him getting home before. Usually, she was mad at him, and that didn’t really help with making him want to come home.

“You ready for a walk, Aura?” Peter grabs the leash and bends down to give her some good scratches under the chin and behind her ears. “Wanna come with me to grab a _decent_ coffee?” It’s either that or he’s going to be almost useless for the rest of the day. Plus, he can treat himself and grab a snack to stave off the ever-present hunger until he can convince himself that he should eat one of his packs of instant noodles.

The coffee shop in question is a few blocks in the nicer direction of the city, and Peter remembers this time to bring the weird dog-tote so he can bring her into the café to place his order. Aurora does her business along the way, and he feels confident that she’s being walked enough to avoid any accidents at home.

When they get to the café, Peter puts the bag down on the sidewalk. Aurora climbs straight into it without issue and pokes her head through the hole, tongue lolling out of her small mouth. He tucks the leash into the bag, zips it closed over her (careful not to catch any fur), and carries her inside. Peter absently rubs her tiny muzzle with one finger while he waits in line. There are so many people in here, now that most day jobs are letting out and classes are finished at the local schools.

All the inside tables are full, and Peter is aware that some people glance at him and whisper to each other. He probably looks a picture—worn spots on his jeans, shirt un-tucked (because why re-tuck it when he’s done looking quasi-professional for the day?), a patchy coat that went out of style twenty years ago, unwashed hair, sunken eyes from too little sleep for too long, and more than a day’s worth of stubble because he only shaves on the days he’s planning on spending _hours_ in the suit (swinging to and from work doesn’t count).

Everyone probably thinks he stole Aurora, and Peter feels really awkward waiting off to the side for his order. A few girls in school uniforms coo at Aurora, but they don’t even give him a second glance. Not that he would expect them to, because he’s like twice their age, but still. He’s not surprised, but he’s also slightly uncomfortable with all the eyes on him.

He beats a hasty retreat outside as soon as he has his decadent coffee and bagel smothered in an obscene amount of cream cheese. The bagel doesn’t even make it out of the store; gone in three bites with the very last littlest piece snuck to Aurora. Mary Jane never said in her email that she wasn’t allowed little bits of human food.

The coffee is more of a mocha, but it’s pumped full of espresso, filled with chocolate sauce, and topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. It’s something Peter doesn’t order for himself very often because it’s an _absurd_ amount of money for something that will give him the same results as a much cheaper coffee. But he’s _treating_ himself, and he doesn’t do that very often.

By some stroke of luck, one of the outside tables is free, and Peter snags it immediately. He wants to relax with his caffeine monstrosity instead of risking being bumped into while walking and possibly dropping it. His spidey-sense has failed him before, and, if he’s startled enough, he can totally drop something. This is too sweet a treat to risk.

For Aurora’s sake, and not to keep her trapped in the bag, Peter takes her out and sets her on the seat opposite him at the table. He loops the cross-body strap for the bag through the leash and keeps that firmly around his wrist under the table. In his time as Spider-Man, he’s seen too many people just grab things and run when they think they have the upper hand. He’s not going to give them the chance.

Aurora lays down and even crosses her front paws. She seems content to watch the passing people and so is Peter. He leans back in his chair, crosses his ankle over his knee, and allows himself to relax with the first sip of his sugary treat. The creamy mocha tastes _amazing_ and he closes his eyes. Fancy, or even just _good_ , coffee is an expense he can’t justify when he has instant coffee at home. It’s horrible, and he grimaces his way through it almost every morning, but it gets the job done.

With the money that Mary Jane gave him, he could probably afford to get himself good coffee more often, or maybe even a new coat. Ugh, but he can’t rationalize it. Peter has rent and his other bills to worry about. One coffee right now, as a _treat_ , is okay as long as he doesn’t make it a habit. And his current coat suffices. It meets his needs, and does he really need anything more than that?

For bills, he thankfully doesn’t have _that_ much. After the divorce, he cancelled almost everything that wasn’t important. All Peter has left is his rent, the utilities, his cell phone, and food. Travel expenses aren’t a thing for him. As Spider-Man, he doesn’t really _need_ to use public transportation. Not when he can swing or parkour across the city in record time.

Even if he would like to have Netflix, that’s too much for his wallet. It might be bad of him, but he also hacked his neighbour’s Wi-Fi so he doesn’t have to pay for that himself. There’s nothing else he needed after that. A gym membership is completely pointless for him, and he doesn’t go bar hopping or anything that costs him more money. He’s taken all the fun things out of his life so he can afford his crappy apartment and keep helping the city as Spider-Man.

After a few minutes of sipping, Peter pulls out his phone. The screen was cracked ages ago, but it still functions just fine. There are a few missed messages from Wade in his app, and he thumbs them open with a curious hum. He’s met with a stupid meme of a guy with his ear-buds in his nose and the audio jack taped to the back of his hands with the caption _When your boss asks for proof that you’re in the hospital._ It’s so dumb, but Peter still snorts a laugh at it.

Between the various memes, Wade sent other messages that make it sound like he’s _worried_. It’s not surprising. Very little makes Peter miss a patrol night, but of course Wade won’t outright ask—not when it’s something that involves his secret identity. That’s something Wade respects in a near maniacal fashion. If anyone even _attempts_ to unmask Peter during a fight, they end up in the hospital missing one or both their hands.

It is a bit weird, however, that Wade is still messaging him while he’s on his quote-unquote _vacation_. Normally, he goes completely off grid. He’s clearly worried, and it’s a bit cute. A nice little glow settles in Peter’s chest as he reads through the messages. Wade might be unhinged at the best of times, but it’s nice to know that there’s someone out there (besides Aunt May) who cares enough to worry about him.

_> > Everything’s fine. _😊 _I’ll do another couple hours of patrol tonight. You just focus on enjoying your vacation!_

Chances are, he’ll head out around nine o’clock and do four to five hours. That’s about his sweet spot, and it’s only when something big happens that he stays out until the wee hours of the morning. It’s going to be boring and not even half as fun without Wade, but he’ll have to tough through it. Peter really got spoiled once he started allowing Wade to tag along.

They’re not _technically_ partners in anti-crime, but it’s a near thing. After a few years of patrolling together, can he really say that he’s still teaching Wade the ropes of being a hero? How much training does he have to undergo before he’s considered a fully functioning hero in his own right? How many years have to go between Deadpool accidentally (or willfully) killing someone before he doesn’t need to follow Spider-Man around anymore?

It’s not like Peter _minds_. Not anymore, at least. In fact, he kind of likes it. As long as Peter stays out of harm’s way, everything is fine. The last time Deadpool killed anyone, it was because someone got a lucky shot through Spider-Man’s thigh. Deadpool saw red and—Well, that was that. They haven’t talked about it, but Peter knows that if he gets hurt, Wade snaps. So, he just needs to make sure that he doesn’t get hurt. Simple.

Honestly, Wade has made a _ton_ of progress over the years. Peter is really proud of him. While he’s still a mercenary, he doesn’t take assassination jobs anymore. He still needs cash flow because a day job like Peter’s is a little out of the question for him. That’s why he picks up reconnaissance, retrieval, or other non-lethal jobs. Sometimes, he even does the odd job for SHIELD, as if that didn’t nearly shock Peter straight into the grave.

SHIELD— _SHIELD_ —actually offered _Deadpool_ , of all people, a _contract_.

Far be it from Peter to question it, though. Wade’s jobs are way more lucrative than his own, and they help fund their after-patrol snacking. Peter looks forward to those, not just for the great company but because most of his daily caloric intake comes from what Wade feeds him. Peter’s financial situation more or less means that he lives off of frozen burritos, instant noodles, and whatever leftovers Aunt May foists on him.

Peter would never outright _ask_ for her (or Wade, for that matter) to feed him, because she’s always had a small income. He knows that taking him in after his parents died really hit her and Uncle Ben hard, not that they ever did anything to let him know it. If he could, Peter wishes he had the means to take care of her the way she deserves—for everything she’s done for him.

A small thump at the window to his left brings him out of his thoughts. His spidey-senses are quiet, so he doesn’t bother to look up. People bump the window all the time when they’re getting out of chairs and stuff. It shouldn’t be anything to worry—

A second, even _louder_ thump, has his heart jump up into his throat. Peter jerks so badly that he ends up squeezing his drink hard enough that the sad plastic cup crumples in his grip and dumps its contents across his lap. He swears in muffins, muttering about _banana chocolate chips,_ and jumps to his feet. Aurora yips unhappily as jumping up tugs on the leash. He has to jerk it to the side and bring it up over the table to avoid yanking her right off the chair.

It’s Aunt May’s fault that he’s basically incapable of swearing properly.

When he looks at the window, it’s to find the small round face of a little girl pressed right against the glass, her hands on either side of her head. Right above her, face and hands equally squished to the window, is a—God, Peter hates himself for even thinking it—a _ruggedly_ attractive man. Both of them are wide-eyed and staring directly at Aurora.

They both speak at the same time, clearly shouting inside the building, but their voices are still muffled through the glass. Peter’s super hearing (which he kind of hates sometimes) can hear them just fine. “Can we pet your dog?!”

Without even looking at him, the guy scoops up the kid, and they rush out of the shop together. They come straight for Peter, and he wants to phase through the sidewalk to get away because _wow_. Now that he’s not hunched over against a window, Peter can see that the guy has a handful of inches on him in height. He’s wider in the shoulders and chest, and his leather jacket is _snug_ over muscular arms.

Spider-Man though he may be, he’s also still Peter Parker, and Peter Parker has some seriously traumatic memories about guys bigger and stronger than him being Class-A bullies throughout the majority of his childhood. The mask makes him confident and allows him to release the sass that his social anxiety usually smothers. Without it, Peter’s knee-jerk reaction is to cower before anyone larger and stronger looking than the frumpy frame he purposely tries to have.

The guy stops a few steps away and his face goes tight, blue eyes widening comically. There’s a little scar running through his right eyebrow. He looks Peter over from top to bottom, lingering on the wet patch with clumps of white whipped cream and sprinkles still clinging to the denim.

“Oh shit, baby girl,” he whispers, and there’s something about his voice—something _familiar_ —that makes the hair on the back of Peter’s neck stand on end; a low hum of his spidey-senses telling him that this is something he should be paying attention to. “Look what we did.”

The little girl, and Peter can’t even begin to estimate her age because kids are a big question mark to him, tears her attention away from Aurora to look at him too. The only time Peter ever interacts with kids is when he’s saving them as Spider-Man, or when he’s flagged down by an excited kid who wants to shake Spider-Man’s hand and get a picture with him.

Even though that always puts Peter in a good mood, he can’t really carry it over outside the mask. Spider-Man is _Spider-Man_. Peter Parker is… He’s a broke dumpster fire of a man with hot mocha and whipped cream soaking into his pants. Spider-Man is just _better_ at handling the things that give him the nervous jitters when he’s not behind the mask.

This must be a father/daughter combo team, because, despite their physical differences (she has a more caramel complexion and dark hair compared to his light skin and blonde hair), their expressions of guilty horror are almost identical when she looks down at the spilled coffee. “Oh _no_.”

The guy puts the girl down and pulls a truly absurd number of napkins out of his pockets. He steps forward like he’s going to start patting down Peter’s lap for him.

“Whoa, whoa!” Peter takes a step back and holds his hands up, nearly yanking Aurora off her chair in the process. She makes an upset noise, and Peter steps over to her quickly, picking her up and leaving the bag to hang off the leash. “Sorry, sorry. It’s—I’m fine. I can—I’ll clean it up.” He steps away as the guy takes another worried step forward. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I –” He looks crestfallen and makes little dabbing motions in the air.

Peter shakes his head. “It’s _fine_.”

“But we need to help!” The little girl takes some of the napkins from her dad and she steps forward too, dabbing motion perfectly mimicked.

“No, seriously, it’s fine!” He takes another step back, actually worried that he’s about to be accidentally molested by two well-meaning dog lovers.

“I’m going to get you a new coffee. What did you have?” Thankfully, the guy grabs his daughter before she can get close enough to actually start patting a stranger’s crotch. He moves her to the chair Aurora was previously occupying. “Ellie, princess, we don’t go touching strangers on the junk.”

Ellie’s nose wrinkles, and she starts throwing crumpled up napkins at him. “Ew, daddy! You’re so _gross_!”

“Nuh-uh! _You’re_ gross.” He sticks his tongue out at her and steps away. “I’ll be right back with a replacement drink!” With one last glance at Peter, and a flash of a bright smile, he’s gone, rushing back into the café before Peter can even tell him what he was drinking.

And… Well, jeeze. Peter is just flabbergasted. He stares down at the kid that a random guy just abandoned with a stranger. With a huff, Ellie jumps down from her chair and starts picking up all the napkins that they dropped. She bunches them up into one big ball and drops them in the garbage can stationed next to the door.

Once she’s cleaned up, Ellie comes back to Peter and looks up at him with big brown eyes, wide and pleading. “Can I _please_ pet your dog now?”

Now, Peter may not be good with kids, but he’s a _sucker_ when they look at him like that—Spider-Man or no Spider-Man. He crouches without hesitation and puts Aurora down. Ellie squats too, her eyes _huge_ as she looks at her. “This is Aurora and she’s very nice. Just be gentle, okay?”

Ellie rolls her eyes up at him. “I _know_ how to pet a dog.” And she holds her hand out to Aurora to let her sniff her fingers. “Is her name coz’ of Sleeping Beauty?”

Peter has to think about it for a moment before he nods. “Yes.”

“I’m going to call her Tinkerbell.”

There’s such confidence in her words that Peter can only blink at her, like, what? He finds his tongue again and clears his throat. “Well, actually—” And then he realizes what he’s about to do and puts a stop to it. What’s the point of arguing about names with a kid? “Yeah, okay. You can call her whatever you want, kiddo.”

She looks up at him with a curious, almost _judging_ squint. “Really?”

“Go for it.” He shrugs and reaches up to the table for the napkins _he_ brought out. They survived Ellie’s clean up and he grabs them to try and sop up some of the mess on his jeans. “I’m not the one who named her in the first place, so it doesn’t bother me.”

Ellie gasps. “Did you _steal_ her?” She somehow sounds suspicious _and_ proud all at the same time, and that’s just a confusing mix to come from a _child_ , of all things.

“My ex-wife wanted me to watch her for a bit.” Peter shrugs and scratches at the base of Aurora’s tail, making her step back and forth on her back paws. She never once pauses in sniffing Ellie’s hand, pushing her face into it. “I usually just call her Aura.”

“Oh, I like that better than Tinkerbell. Hi, Aura!” Ellie pats her on the head and Aurora steps forward into her, putting her paws on Ellie’s grass-stained knees to lick at her face and hands. She starts giggling, and Peter leaves them briefly to themselves to throw out his soaked napkins.

He crouches next to them again and crosses his arms on his knees. This is so… weird and not at all how he thought his day was going to go. With his head cocked to the side, he watches Aurora make friends with a sassy child who, by the looks of it, is going to be heartbroken when they have to part ways in a few minutes.

It’s not long before her dad returns, and he’s got a baggy of treats (by the smell of it) in his hand and a brand-new mocha monstrosity in the other. He beams down at them when Peter looks up. “Are you making new friends, pumpkin?”

“She’s the _best_ , daddy!” Ellie stands up and turns to him, her smile almost sparkling. “Can I have one?”

He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Ask me again when you’re fifteen.”

Ellie groans and hangs her head back. “But that’s _forever_ away!” And that makes Peter wonder what her age actually is. She’s older than five, that’s for sure. Younger than ten, probably. If he had to guess, with his life on the line, he’d say somewhere around seven or eight? Maybe?

“Sorry, sweetheart.” The dad shrugs and holds the drink out to Peter as he stands. “This is it, right?”

There’s a bit of a shock as their fingers brush when Peter takes the cup. The guy jerks back quickly, his eyes dropping down to his daughter. Peter’s fingers tingle where they touched, but otherwise he’s fine. Regardless, that _also_ sparked a little buzz of his spidey-sense. For the life of him, he doesn’t know _why_.

Peter looks at the drink in his hands and frowns. The label on the side is exactly what he’d ordered before, and even has his name typed on it. “How did you know what I ordered?”

“I asked them inside.” He shrugs and squats down to his daughter’s height. “They remembered the order for the guy with the cute dog and just reprinted the receipt for it.”

When he reaches out to start petting Aurora too, Ellie grabs him before he can make contact. “No! You gotta do it like _this,_ Wade.” And she guides his hand forward slowly so Aurora can sniff his fingers first.

Wait.

Peter frowns around a cautious sip of his drink. It tastes exactly the same, and he swallows back a groan because it’s just _that good_. But that’s not what makes him frown. It’s what Ellie just called her dad. _Wade_. That’s not a very common name, is it? He’s pretty sure it isn’t. He can count on one hand the number of Wades he’s known in his lifetime, and—And he wonders if Wade has texted him back yet.

His hand drifts towards his pocket, but he stops himself. If he takes his attention off of Ellie, her dad, or Aurora, he’s just got a _feeling_ that something bad is going to happen. Nothing could happen, but there’s still a _possibility_ , and being Spider-Man has made him so paranoid about all the bad that can happen on the turn of a dime.

Both Ellie and her dad (Wade, presumably) are absolutely _fascinated_ by Aurora. They’re practically giddy with excitement. The way Ellie’s dad gushes about how soft and fluffy Aurora is sparks something familiar in Peter’s brain—something he can’t quite place.

Aurora is whipping around in excited circles, getting worked up as they pet and tease her in equal turns. Wade keeps gushing (“Aren’t you just the _prettiest_ little girl? Yes, you are! So fluffy and sweet! Yes, you are! Good girl!”) while Ellie coos and talks in what ultimately amounts to nothing but gibberish.

Unsurprisingly, Aurora is _eating up_ the attention. Peter can’t help a pang of guilt that he’s apparently just not built to dote affection on a pet like they deserve. It never even occurred to him to shower her in praise. If anything, he talks to her like she’s just another person in the apartment with him.

Does that make _him_ the weird one? Or is it _them_?

Peter mulls it over as he takes his seat back at the table. Even with his general melancholy, he can’t help a smile when Aurora actually rolls over to bare her belly for scratches. Both Ellie and Wade are talking non-stop to her, overlapping each other as they push and shove to be the ones to give her all the petting and scratches she desires.

In some strange way, this kind of reminds Peter of his Wade. Well, not _his_ Wade. Deadpool, that is. The constant running at the mouth is very much like him and—And now Peter has Wade on the brain again. He eyes Ellie’s dad and realizes that he’s probably about the same size as Deadpool. Maybe a little smaller? But he doesn’t have the scars and—It’s really crappy of Peter to even think this, but he can’t help but wonder if maybe Wade looked a little like this guy before Weapon X got a hold of him.

If Wade was even half as attractive as Ellie’s dad, then it’s no surprise that he’s so hung up on his scars and his self-worth is down the toilet. Peter had been taken aback the first time Deadpool had allowed him to see the bottom half of his face while they were eating. Anyone would, no matter how prepared they were for it. He’d done his best not to outwardly react, and they kept on like it had never happened.

That was more than a year ago, wasn’t it? Regardless, now Peter is used to the scars, and he hopes, maybe one day, Wade will be comfortable enough to take his mask off for him. Which is also crappy of him to think, because Peter still hasn’t taken his mask off for him, or given his name or anything of importance.

There’s nothing stopping him, per se. It’s just… No, Peter doesn’t have a good reason for it.

“Okay, baby girl.” Wade stands and scoops Ellie up into his arms as he does, ignoring her whine as she reaches out for Aurora. “We’ve got people to buy and things to see.”

Peter raises an eyebrow but wisely chooses to say nothing. Ellie, however, has many things to say. “But the _dog_ , Daddy! We can’t just _leave her_! She’s so sweet and fluffy and I _want one_.”

“No can do, muffin.” He shakes his head and presses a kiss to her forehead. “You’re going to have to ask the Prestons for a pupper of your own. It ain’t my call.” He rains even more kisses on her face, and she squeals, slapping at him.

“You’re _shocking_ me!” It doesn’t seem to be a bad thing, since she’s laughing loudly and squirming in what _looks_ like delight.

Either way, Peter’s other eyebrow goes up.

“So sorry, princess.” The kisses stop, and Wade lifts her to his shoulders. It must be a normal thing for them, because Ellie straddles the back of his neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

With his arms raised to get her in place, Peter gets an even better chance to look Wade over. He’s fit. Like, absurdly so. He has the kind of physique that one doesn’t see often outside of the superhero business, and—And something clicks in Peter’s brain. A light bulb goes on.

“Deadpool?”

The name is out of his mouth before he even realizes it and Peter wishes he had a better grasp on his brain-to-mouth filter. Wade goes preternaturally still as soon as he says it. Peter doesn’t miss how his hand drifts towards his hip in the very subtle way he’s seen others reach for a hidden weapon. He would be worried, but that light bulb is burning bright in his brain.

See, a lot of people underestimate him. They don’t realize just how _smart_ he is because of how he looks and his apparent lack of a consistent job or money. Between the name, the physique, the voice, and that almost electric-like shock when they touched? Peter did the math. He knows about image inducers, and he even once had the chance to take one apart to find out how it works.

It’s a one in a million chance that they would bump into each other outside their masks, especially with all the people in New York, and yet Peter is _positive_ that the man standing in front of him is Wade Wilson. The Merc with the Mouth. _Deadpool_.

Peter is smart enough to figure that out, but he’s not smart enough to keep his stupid mouth shut. There’s no way to talk himself out of this now without revealing who he is, and Wade—Well, Wade is liable to kill him now. Especially if Ellie really is his kid. And, seriously, how could he have never mentioned to _Spider-Man_ that he had a _kid_?

Ellie actually drops her jaw, staring down at him from her perch. “How did you _know_?”

“Ellie.” Wade’s voice is low and deadly, and it makes Peter’s spidey-senses flare something awful at the base of his skull.

Even Aurora picks up on the hint of _danger_ in the air. She whimpers and shuffles over to press against Peter’s legs, her tail tucked between her own. Ellie must recognize that tone herself, because her mouth snaps shut and, when she looks to Peter again, there’s pity in her eyes.

There’s only one way of getting out of this and Peter swallows against the bile burning the back of his throat. It hasn’t been an _if_ when it came to giving Wade his secret identity. It’s been a _when_ for a long time, and now might be the best time. Either that or he’s going to be dead in an alley in a few minutes.

“No need to be so scary, ‘Pool.” Without the mask, Peter doesn’t feel all that confident in himself, and there’s a very small shake to his voice. He still squares his shoulders and bends down to pick Aurora up. She’s shaking like a leaf in his arms, and he tucks her into the bag again, hopefully to give her a sense of safety.

It’s best that they don’t do this in such a public place, so Peter looks around and tilts his head down the sidewalk. He starts walking and, unsurprisingly, Wade follows. In fact, he follows so closely that Peter can feel the press of a gun against his side.

“Put it away, Wade.” Peter frowns and glances at him over his shoulder. “Or you’re going to owe me a million Taco Tuesdays, and I’m never going to let you live down the day you _shot me_.”

Wade’s steps falter and his stony expression cracks slightly. His frown deepens into confusion, like he’s got the first straws but he’s still grasping for the rest of the conclusion.

Peter tries again. “That was a cute cat you sent me last night. Did you add to the tally if it was an old woman’s or a kid’s?” Those are the type who usually lose their cats up trees, and they’ve had a running total on them for the last few years. It started up when they noticed a trend, and they just kept going with it.

That makes Wade stop in the middle of the sidewalk. His eyebrows come together and his blue eyes are intense under them. Peter turns to face him, stepping off to the side so they don’t block the flow of the foot traffic. Wade takes a minute to follow.

With the chance to look him over again, Peter wonders if the image inducer he’s wearing gave him his original face, or if this is randomized. He knows that they usually function on a random setting, but it _is_ possible to mess with the variables of the program to make it look like a specific someone.

Peter glances up at Ellie. “Are you good at keeping secrets?”

“I’m the _best_.” She puffs out her chest and holds up her fingers in the salute for the Girl Scouts. “I haven’t told _anyone_ about Wade. Not even Becky, and she’s my _best friend_.”

“I thought _I_ was your best friend.” Wade’s voice is still hard, and his hand is still very much in his pocket, which is likely where the gun is hidden.

Ellie shakes her head, sending her curly ponytail whipping side to side. “Nuh-uh. You’re _Daddy_. You can’t be my best friend _too_.”

“You’re breaking my heart, baby girl.”

Peter bites back the urge to laugh. Wade probably would have whined that at any other time, but right now he’s still putting the pieces together. He’s looking Peter over from head to toe, eyes flicking from one thing to another like he’s trying to fit them into the shape of someone else—someone Peter hopes he’s hinted enough to.

Rather than placate her dad further, Ellie rests her elbows on Wade’s head and props her cheek on a little fist. She looks down at Peter with all the curiosity of a child her age. “How do _you_ know Wade?”

With another glance up and down the sidewalk, Peter steps closer to the brick wall lining the sidewalk, tucking tightly against it. He puts Aurora and the bag down, and gestures with his free hand for Wade to step in. His wide frame more or less blocks Peter from view of the rest of the people walking past. Peter still looks around again before he reaches for the collar of his turtleneck. He pulls it down just enough to show a flash of telltale red and black lines.

“Baby boy?” Wade’s whole demeanor changes in an instant, body going loose and pliant. He shuffles even closer, eyes wide as he invades Peter’s personal space like he usually does—though normally they’re in their suits when he does that. His hand snaps up to pull the collar back up over the evidence of the Spider-Man costume.

Peter cracks a smile. “You sure you still want to keep calling me that now that you’ve seen my face?” He gestures up at the bags under his eyes and the five o’clock shadow that makes him look older than his thirty-four years.

Granted, he probably looks better today than normal. Peter has gotten more sleep in the last two days than he usually has in a week. When he’s well rested and cleaned up, which he sort of did this morning before going to work, he’s nothing to sniff at. However, his hair is definitely unwashed and a little wild after wearing the mask twice today. He also looks barely presentable for work.

Sure, he’s alright, but he’s not the… the… _specimen_ like the pre-Weapon X Wade looking at him right now. If that is his original face. Peter’s pretty sure it’s not a good thing to ask about right now.

“Oh my God.” Wade breathes out and starts fanning his hands near his face as he dances from foot to foot. “Oh my _God_.”

Yep. This is _definitely_ Deadpool.

Ellie rocks side to side on his shoulders, not even remotely afraid that she might fall off. One of her little neat eyebrows is raised and she’s looking down at the top of Wade’s head. “Why’re you being crazier than normal, huh?” She leans forward, squinting down at Peter. “What did you show him? I didn’t get to see what the secret was!”

“Princess, you don’t _understand_.” Wade gestures dramatically at Peter. “You’re in the presence of _greatness_.” He grabs Peter by the shoulders and pulls him tight against his chest. “Oh, baby boy, you’re just as beautiful as I always imagined you’d be.”

This isn’t that comfortable with Peter’s arm out to keep his drink safe, and Ellie’s feet digging into the space between them. Peter grunts quietly into Wade’s collarbone. “Yeah, yeah. Ham it up.”

“He’s in one of his _moods_ again.” Ellie sighs loudly, pouting. “It’s the kind of mood where he’s gonna keep reflecting and not tell me _anything_.”

“Deflecting, sweetheart. The word you’re looking for is _de_ flecting.”

“I’m all too familiar with this mood.” Peter huffs and works a hand up between them. He puts a little bit of his spidey-strength into it to push them apart. “What have I said about doing that in public, ‘Pool?”

“ _Wade_.” The smile drops away and some of the stiffness returns. “Ix-nay on the Eadpool-day when the kidlet is around, okay?” He jerks a thumb up at Ellie. “She knows who I am, but I don’t exactly want anyone else to know too. _Kah-peesh_?”

Peter looks up at Ellie again and she has her head tilted to the side, brow furrowed as she studies him. She’s got a lot of her father in her, because those calculating eyes definitely look like Wade’s did a few minutes ago—though the colours are different.

He nods and opens his mouth to speak, but Aurora gives a whine. Peter lets her out of the bag again, since she seems to not be afraid anymore. Almost immediately, she starts walking away, as if she’s done waiting around for him. With a shrug, Peter starts after her and Wade falls into step next to him.

“So…” Peter glances at him, not surprised to find that Wade is staring at him intently and not at all watching where they’re going. “I guess we’ve got a lot to talk about later, huh?”

“Or…” Wade clears his throat and drums a pattern on Ellie’s ankles with his fingers. “We could start now? Like with a name? Since you know _mine_ and all that.”

“It’s Peter.” He smiles, partially because he’s happy to finally give it, and partially because he can already see how Wade is lighting up as he finally gets something he’s always wanted. “Peter Parker.”

Ellie throws her head back with a laugh. “Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater!” She starts chanting the rest of the nursery rhyme, which is something Peter has never actually heard in full until today. “Had a wife and couldn’t keep her. He put her in a pumpkin shell, and there he kept her very well!”

That hits uncomfortably close to home. Except the part where he apparently would have killed his wife and put her in a pumpkin shell to hide her corpse. That doesn’t sound so great.

The realization must strike Ellie too, and she gives a horrified gasp; staring down at him accusingly. “Is _that_ why you have Aura? Did you put your ex-wife in a _pumpkin shell_ when she divorced you?”

Peter falters in his steps, and Wade catches one look of his expression before he starts laughing. Now _that_ is a familiar sound, and Peter would have recognized him instantly if he’d laughed like that earlier. Wade almost doubles over and Ellie sits back, adjusting for the change of angle so easily that Peter suspects that this is an everyday occurrence.

Ellie crosses her arms and continues frowning at him. “ _Well_?”

“My ex-wife is very much alive and well.” Peter hides his pout behind his drink. “She’s moving to California, and I’m babysitting her dog while she house hunts.”

She doesn’t seem to believe him, and she points at her eyes and then at him. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

“Me too, princess.” Wade wheezes out of his laugh and straightens up again. “Me too.”

Peter glances away from Ellie and his breath catches in his chest when he finds Wade grinning at him. That charming smile of his puts little lines in the corners of his eyes. They’re practically twinkling with glee, and his whole body is almost _glowing_. There’s actual _fondness_ there and… And how often does Wade look at him like that from behind a mask?

It has Peter’s pulse quicken slightly, and what the heck is _that_ about?

Wade’s phone beeps in his pocket and he pulls it out to glance at the screen. “Oops. Sorry, pumpkin. We’ve gotta jet or we’ll be late for the movie.” He tucks his phone away and tilts his head back slightly. “We’ll have dinner after, and then I’m going to leave you with Auntie Dom for a few hours because I gotta go meet up with you-know-who.”

She gasps and grabs his head, tilting it back dangerously so she can look him in the eye. “Are you going to see _him_?”

“Sure am!”

Ellie actually gives his head a little shake. “Can you get an autograph this time? I wanna rub it in Carlos’s stupid face because _he_ got one when Spidey saved his dad’s truck from driving off the bridge, but _he’s_ not friends with Spidey like _you_ are.” She drums her little heels against his chest and thumps his forehead with her fingers. “Get me an _autograph_!” After a pause, she tacks on a quiet, “Please.”

Peter tries _really_ hard not to grin like a loon. “I’m sure he can arrange that, Ellie.”

That draws her squint right back to him. “Don’t think I forgot about how _you_ know who Wade really is and how both of you aren’t telling me _why_.”

“We’re work buddies.” Peter shrugs and looks forward again, taking another sip of his mocha. The mess of the last one is still cooling on his lap, and he hates the tacky wet feeling of his jeans sticking to his skin. “You might even say we’re friends.”

If anything, that makes Ellie even _more_ suspicious. “Are you a _good_ work buddy friend or are you the _bad_ kind?”

“Sweetheart. Ellie. Light of my life.” Wade sighs and squeezes her ankles. “Petey here is the very _best_ work buddy friend.”

“Okay…” She doesn’t sound convinced, but then she smiles wide and sly. “Does that mean we can see Aura more this week?”

Wade turns his head and Peter finds himself on the receiving end of a double-dose of wide, begging puppy eyes. He resists the urge to look away and show his weakness. “Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want. We can meet up tomorrow after work and take her for a walk or something.”

The twin looks of _glee_ actually sends chills down his spine. Honestly, Peter is a little scared of the joint combination of Wade and his—Well, his _daughter_ , apparently. That’s definitely something he’s going to have to talk to Wade about when they meet up later.

“Right, well, we gotta head out.” With a little wave, Wade starts jogging ahead. Ellie bobs above him on his shoulder. “See ya later, Petey! Meet you at the usual time and spot?”

“Yeah, the usual spot.” Peter nods and lifts his hand in a wave. “Have fun.”

The usual spot is the roof across the street from their favourite Mexican joint. It used to be the roof of the restaurant itself, but then they discovered that staying there to eat would leave the scent of tacos and grease clinging to their suits for the rest of the night, and Peter had to wash his suit twice as much because of it.

Peter is the first to arrive that evening. He lies on his back, arms crossed under his head as he stares at the sky and wishes he could see the stars. Deadpool arrives a few minutes later with more grunting than necessary as he rolls over the lip. Despite the katana on his back, he rolls his way across the roof until he’s right next to Peter and can prop himself on his side in a pin-up style pose.

“Hey, cutie-pie. You waiting for someone?”

“Just you, honey buns.” Peter rolls onto his side and mimics Wade’s position.

Gasping, Wade clasps a hand to his chest and flops backwards. “Oh, be still my beating heart! You can’t _say_ things like that now that I know what you look like, Webs! That’s just unfair! Big Bambi eyes and a jaw that _slays_.”

Peter’s heart absolutely does _not_ do a little flip. Wade is just being ridiculous like always, so he rolls his eyes and sits up. “So, you have a kid, huh?”

Like a light switch being flipped, Wade goes from jovial to stone cold in a second. He sits up so sharply that Peter’s spidey-senses start tingling. “No one knows about her, Spidey, and it’s going to _stay_ that way.”

“Of course it is.” Peter mimes zipping his lips over the mask. “I’m not going to tell anyone, Wade.”

It’s a little bone-chilling to have Wade trip off his spidey-sense so many times in one day. That used to happen a lot when they first started patrolling together, but now it’s so rare that it’s throwing him off just a bit. Wade must be _really_ serious if his deadly intent is so strong that Peter can actually _feel_ it.

The tension leaves Wade’s body with a sigh, and he flops back again. “But isn’t she just the sweetest li’l thing, though? It’s hard to believe that little nugget of sunshine came from _me_.”

“Who’s her mom?” He can’t see it being Shiklah.

“It’s no one you know.” Wade shakes his head. “Ellie’s momma is some chick I used to bang a long time ago. Long before all—Well.” He gestures at his face. “We did hook up a couple times _after_ Weapon-X, but this was too much for her so we went our separate ways. I didn’t even know Ellie existed until a few years back. Apparently, Carmelita gave her my number to call if she ever got in trouble, so she phoned me up when ‘Lita passed.”

Peter stares off across the roof, trying to fit that into the timeline of their friendship. There was a few years ago where Wade disappeared off the map for months. He came back claiming he’d been on some kind of job. Is that when Ellie entered his life?

Oh God, and he said she only called because she was in trouble? “Was everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, it was fine, I guess.” Wade shrugs and scratches idly at his chin. “Carmelita OD’d when Ellie was, like, six years old. She’s eight now.” Peter can hear the smile in his voice. “She called me when she found her mom because she didn’t know what else to do. I went and picked her up and, uh, adopted her out to some friends. I usually see her on the weekends and, once in a while, they’ll let me have a week with her.”

Ah, that explains the mystery of why Wade takes a week off every now and then. “And she knows that you’re Deadpool, huh?”

“It’s not my fault.” Wade sits up and waves his hands in front of himself. “I mean, it didn’t help that I picked her up while in the suit, but she’s a smart little shit and would’ve figured me out pretty quick. I guarantee it.”

Peter snorts a laugh and shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. And when did the image inducer come into play?” A better question would be; _who let him have one in the first place_?

“I stole one _ages_ ago.” Wade answers the unasked question on his own. “Had to keep it on the DL otherwise I’d have SHIELD climbing up my ass to get it back.” He throws Peter a smile that stretches wide under his mask. “Don’t go spreading that, eh?”

“As long as you don’t use it for evil.” Peter jokingly shakes a finger at him.

Wade flaps a hand at him. “Yeah, nah. It makes it easier to go out on the town with Ellie. Nobody stares, and anyone who knows that the scarred motherfucker wandering New York is me won’t put two-and-two together when they see us.” At that, he lays one of his guns on his thigh, stroking it idly. “And if anyone _does_ find out and tries to use her to get to me–”

The threat hangs heavy in the air and Peter reaches out to put a hand over his. “Wade.”

“She’s the only person I hold more important than you, Spidey.” Wade looks at him, and the smile under the mask is gone. His voice is low and hard again. “If I have to un-alive someone to keep her safe, I will. Even if the person I have to un-alive is you.”

Peter isn’t surprised in the least. “I know. I won’t tell a soul about her. I promise.”

He moves his hands to Wade’s shoulder and squeezes. Keeping his grip where it is, he uses it to haul himself to his feet and stretches his back, his arms reaching well above his head. Once his spine has popped in a few places, he holds a hand out in offering.

When he pulls Wade to his feet, Peter gives his fingers another little squeeze. “I also promise that I’m not going to push for more than you’re willing to give. I might not have kids of my own”–And he probably won’t for as long as he has any say in it–“but I’ll protect her with my life too.”

“Thanks, Webs.” Wade grips his hand and pulls him in, his voice dropping low. “Or should I say… _Petey_?”

Peter absolutely does _not_ blush under his mask because he is an _adult_ and Wade’s deep voice does _not_ make him shiver. “Not when the mask is on, _Deadpool_.”

Wade laughs loudly and smacks him on the shoulder. “Fine, fine. Patrol first and then what say you to grabbing some grub? Or do you wanna mix it up a bit and do it the other way?”

Peter shifts his weight to his other foot while he thinks it over. “How about… we do a loop of the city that brings us back here for dinner?”

“Race ya!”

Apparently, that’s Wade’s decision on the matter. He takes off at a run and leaps off the roof with a shout of “ _Parkour_!”, tucking and rolling across the neighbouring roof. Spry as though he were a teenager, Wade pops up on his feet and continues running. Peter watches him go with his hands on his hips, leaning backwards and to either side to limber up.

Satisfied, he takes a running leap off the edge of the roof, whooping in delight. As much as being Spider-Man has made his life as Peter Parker hard, he’ll never not get a rush of adrenaline and pure _joy_ whenever he free falls for those few moments before he snaps out webbing at the corner of another building and arcs into a swing.

He chases after Wade with a smile on his face.


	3. Tuesday

A new day brings the same routine. Only this time, when Peter takes Aurora for her walk after work, he’s interrupted by a phone call when they’re just a few blocks away from home.

He raises an eyebrow when he notes the picture of Deadpool backlit against the lights of New York on the call display. Wade doesn’t know that Peter has this picture, or that it’s his display photo. Even Peter forgot what he set it as, because this a first. In all the time that Wade has had Peter’s cell number, he’s never actually _called_ before. They’ve kept their correspondence strictly to text messages.

Peter slides his thumb across the screen to accept the call and puts it to his ear. “Hey, Wade.”

Without preamble, Wade launches right into questions. “ _Where are you_?”

“Out?” He glances down at Aurora where she’s sniffing at the edge of a fire hydrant. “I’m walking Aura.”

“ _The street, you dumbass._ ” Even with the insult, Wade manages to sound nothing but fond. Peter can even hear his smile. “ _I need a **street** , and then I need you to **stay put** like a good boy._” He pauses and his voice pitches deeper. “ _You’re a good boy, aren’t you?_ ”

He starts cooing complete nonsense, and Peter rolls his eyes as he looks around for the nearest street sign. The corner is pretty close and he rattles off both streets. Before he’s even done, Wade has ended the call. It’s probably in his best interest to wait, so he does, though he’s not entirely sure _what_ he’s waiting for.

The answer to that comes a few minutes later. A taxi cab pulls up beside him, and a familiar face beams at him from behind the wheel. Peter has met Dopinder a number of times when Wade has used his services on the nights they’re too achy or wounded to swing somewhere safe. Dopinder gives him a cheery wave, but the back window rolls down and Ellie hangs out it.

“Penelope!” She doesn’t give Peter even a glance, entirely focused on Aurora where she’s been sitting on half of one of Peter’s feet.

“I thought it was—Oh, never mind.” Peter sighs and scoops Aurora up. She starts yipping excitedly when she sees Ellie, licking her face as he passes her through the window.

As soon as Ellie has Aurora in hand, Wade moves both of them out of the way and plops them down on the far side of the back seat. He takes a moment to coo at Aurora before he leans out the window himself, eyebrows raised teasingly. “Hey, handsome. Can we give you a lift?”

“I feel a bit like I don’t have a say in this situation since you just stole my dog.” Peter crosses his arms, but he’s smiling. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!”

Wade is all straight white teeth and twinkly blue eyes. He’s unfairly gorgeous and Peter feels a little out of place as he slides in next to him. With Wade’s bulky frame in the middle seat, he feels larger than life.

He leans forward and points his whole arm through the small window separating the taxi driver from the back seat. “Onwards!”

“Where to, Mr. Wilson?” Dopinder glances back at him, frowning in confusion.

“I said _onwards_.” Wade slaps at his shoulder before sitting back with a thump. Dopinder just smiles in answer, puts the car in drive again, and pulls away from the curb.

Peter angles himself into the corner against the door so Wade has more space. “You really were serious about us hanging out today, huh?”

“Well, _duh_. There’s no way in hell I was going to deny _my_ little princess some more time with _your_ little princess.” He glances at where Ellie has Aurora in her lap, both of them looking out the window next to her while she tells Aurora about her day at school.

“Technically, Aura isn’t mine.” Peter leans around to watch them. “I’m just a glorified babysitter.”

“For your ex, right?” Wade turns his head just enough to look at Peter out of the corner of his eye. “How are things on that front, by the way? Is there anything… _lingering_?” He leans slightly into Peter’s side, obviously hinting at _something_.

Maybe it’s a good thing that Peter spends so much time with Wade in a mask. His eyes are intense and expressive, and being the subject of that focus every night would probably make Peter’s head explode. Because—and here’s the kicker—Peter is neither blind, deaf, nor dumb. He’s well aware of how much Wade stares at him. As much as he tries to pretend there’s no weight behind it, there’s definitely something to all those comments about the clingy spandex, and Wade makes those more often about him than anyone else.

Peter slumps a little in his seat, looking away from those earnest eyes. “Yeah, I’m watching Aurora for MJ. There’s no bad blood. Just… hurt feelings, I guess.” He shrugs and fiddles with the frayed hem of his coat. “She resents me for not budging on my _extracurricular_ activities, and I resent her for trying to change who she knew she was marrying. We’re still sorta friends, but not really.”

Talking about this is just going to make him melancholy, but Peter can’t make his mouth stop talking. “We didn’t want a clean break because we basically grew up together. She was the girl next door and I was the nerd that didn’t deserve her.”

Peter doesn’t like talking about the _void_ that was left in his life when she divorced him. Gwen has been dead for most of his life at this point, and Harry is locked up in an asylum. His favourite teacher from high school, Dr. Connors, is in and out of jail, and Peter only ever interacts with him as Spider-Man. Flash occasionally pops up in his life just to throw a wrench in the works when he least expects it, but that’s about it.

Mary Jane leaving made Peter realize how _lonely_ he is. His best friend, his _only_ friend, is someone whose face he’s never really seen.

Wade hums in thought and even rubs his chin while he’s at it. “I dunno, Petey. I think I sense some good ol’ fashioned _lingering_.”

“It’s hard not to.” Peter looks out the window, leaning over enough to rest his head against the glass, warm from the afternoon sun. “I was in love with her for most of my life.”

“Was?” Wade leans in slightly, sounding hopeful. “You’re not _now_?”

That’s a difficult question to answer. Peter is but he isn’t. Loving Mary Jane is easy. What’s not to love about her? She’s funny, smart, talented, beautiful, and she always stood up for him when no one else would. He could always trust having her in his corner, but now his corner is an empty shoebox of an apartment that he kind of hates going back to.

“Petey?” Wade’s hand lands on his knee and it’s radiating warmth. His voice drops into a softer but still insistent register. “Are you still in love with your ex?”

Ellie clears her throat loudly. “ _Wade_ , you told me to tell you when you’re being obvious.” She leans over and taps him on the leg. “You’re being _obvious_.”

“I am _not_!” Wade pulls away sharply, scandalized, and quickly turns to her. “Just for that, I’m taking Snickers. It’s _my_ turn for fluffy cuddles.”

She gasps and hugs Aurora to her chest. “No way! You promised I would get to play with her so _you_ could fl– _mmph_!”

Wade’s big hand covers her whole face as he shushes her with a loud hiss. “Ix-nay on the an-play!”

“Plan?” Peter raises an eyebrow and is immediately treated to twin looks of innocence, though the bottom half of Ellie’s face is hidden by Wade’s hand.

“We have arrived!” Dopinder interrupts them with a cheery announcement from the front seat as the cab rolls to a stop in front of a—Oh. A dog park. Peter should have expected that.

Wade pays for the trip with his usual high five, and Dopinder drives off to go pick up actual paying fares, leaving them on the sidewalk in front of the park. Ellie has completely taken over Aurora’s care, the leash looped carefully around her thin wrist. Her cat-ears headband is in place, same as it was yesterday, and her sneakers light up in flashing blues and greens as she walks ahead of them. The bag on her back is emblazoned with Hello Kitty’s face, and Peter isn’t quite convinced that it’s not the same one he’s seen Deadpool bring on missions in the past.

“Hey.” He grabs Wade’s arm to pull him back a step and gestures at Ellie’s backpack with his chin. “Please tell me there are no explosives in that.”

Snorting, Wade pulls his arm free and throws it around Peter’s shoulders, forcing him into step next to him as they follow after Ellie. “I would never put my baby girl at risk like that, Petey-pie. She liked mine so much that I had to go and get her one of her own. Now we’re twinsies!”

“Of course.” Peter echoes, though he’s still slightly suspicious.

Wade’s arm stays around his shoulder for a few minutes longer, but eventually it drops. He stays close, and they both walk with their hands in their pockets, elbows brushing every now and then. Ellie leads them along the path that loops around the outskirts of the dog park. Aurora seems interested in the other dogs, but Ellie doesn’t let her off the leash until she glances back and Peter gives her a thumbs up.

Honestly, he has no clue if Aurora would be okay off leash, but it’ll probably be alright. Hopefully.

Smiling brightly, Ellie crouches and slings her bag off her shoulder. She unclips Aurora’s leash, coils it up, and puts it in the bag. When she pulls her hand out again, there’s a tennis ball clutched in her small fist. Every dog in a twenty-foot radius, and there are a _lot_ here right now, comes bounding over.

With a screech of laughter, Ellie throws the ball as hard and as far as she can. All the dogs take off after it, and Aurora is the smallest of the bunch. A cloud of white flitting between the browns, blacks, and grays of the other dogs. Her high-pitched yapping barks can be heard over all the deep boofs of the dogs easily three times her size or more. Does no one else bring small dogs to the dog park?

Ellie runs after them, leaving Peter and Wade to tag along. Despite how Deadpool and Spider-Man rarely shut up, it takes a little while for conversation to actually start. When it does, it’s amicable. They touch very lightly on their patrol from last night, picking up and answering in more detail the questions that came up then.

Peter ends up sharing more things about himself instead of about Spider-Man, which is a novelty for him. The last time he tried sharing _Peter Parker_ with someone who previously only knew him exclusively as his alter ego, it didn’t go well. If he has another Black Cat situation on his hands, he might give up ever trying to tell someone about the real him again. Because the more Felicia learned about the man under the mask, the less she wanted to do with him, and she ultimately cut off their (mostly physical) relationship shortly after he took the mask off.

Everything with Felicia happened before he ended up with Mary Jane. That was back when she was still with Harry, which is a whole other kettle of fish. Peter had been trying to distract himself from the heartbreak and the betrayal. Harry _knew_ how much he loved Mary Jane, and he still went behind Peter’s back and—Well, that’s ancient history.

Now that he thinks about it, the Black Cat situation has really played into his reluctance to take the mask off for anyone else ever since. It’s probably why it wasn’t until he absolutely _had_ to that he didn’t reveal himself to Wade sooner. But this—Peter hopes _this_ will be a special situation. God knows how long it’s been since he first started toying with the idea of telling Wade who he really is.

Felicia’s solid rejection of _Peter Parker_ hurt. A lot. But the longer he talks to Wade while they walk, the less he thinks this is going to be like that. Wade is, in fact, the exact opposite. He absorbs any secret identity-related information like a sponge—listening with actual _interest_ and asking questions, sometimes very personal questions (“So, when did you lose your virginity? Wondering minds want to know, Petey. Don’t hold out on the curious public!”) in his very Wade-like way.

Sometimes the questions will be inane one moment and then deep and insightful the next. Wade Wilson, _Deadpool_ , is a juxtaposition of a man. It’s half the reason that Peter likes him so much, once he got to know him, of course. He’s so full of surprises and there’s never a boring moment when Wade is around.

When Peter tells him how he works at the Daily Bugle, Wade actually doubles over with laughter and wheezes for a solid five minutes. Peter stands next to him, hands in his pockets, grinning.

“That’s the biggest _fuck you_ to Jameson, holy shit.” Wade gasps and wipes an actual tear from his eye. “Getting paid for Spider-Man pictures he slanders, and you’re—Oh God. Petey, you mad genius.”

At least _someone_ appreciates the irony. Mary Jane got it, but she didn’t think it was the best idea. She thought someone would figure him out sooner or later. It didn’t help that she hated Jameson and how he treated both Peter and Spider-Man, nor did she like the fact that Peter wasn’t (and still isn’t!) making great money working there. Sure, it’s not a lot, but it’s enough to get him by, and it’s the kind of job he can work while still being Spider-Man. If Mary Jane could have pointed him in the direction of a better paying job where he could still help New York, he’d have happily signed up for it.

Yes, their divorce was mostly because of Spider-Man, but at least Mary Jane still always stood up for him. She knew he was doing good. It was just hard for her that Peter didn’t have his priorities in order. Spider-Man came first, and she came second. Peter knows that’s where he messed up, and if he could do it all over again, he’d do it right.

Spider-Man never ranked higher in his books than Aunt May. But, somehow, Mary Jane didn’t make the cut. It’s left Peter feeling like the world’s biggest _jerk_ over the last year. Thanks, hindsight. He really should have worked harder to be there for her, to be a better husband.

Part of Peter is still bitter that she tried to change who he is. Mary Jane knew she wasn’t _just_ marrying him. She was marrying Spider-Man too. And—Well, he never made things easy for her, did he? Heck, he didn’t make anything easy for _either_ of them.

“Uh oh! Someone’s getting maudlin.” Wade is suddenly right there in front of him, poking him in the cheek. Peter allows it, staring off into the middle distance. “Did you just remember you left the kettle on or something?”

“Nah, I always unplug it.” Just like he unplugs everything except the alarm clock so he uses as little electricity as possible. “I was just thinking about how… easy this is.” It used to be like this with Mary Jane, and then… then it wasn’t.

Wade leans in closer, head tilted and one eyebrow cocked. “What’s easy?”

Peter shifts his focus to him with a smile. “Hanging out with you.” To his surprise, Wade actually _blushes_ , but that doesn’t stop him from continuing. “I probably should have told you who I was a long time ago.” He shrugs and glances away to where Ellie and her unending bag of tricks has now made her the center of a group of roughly fifteen dogs, some of which are almost as big as she is. “I was planning on it, but I never really found a good time.”

“I’d feel bad that you got outted before you were ready for it, but you kinda did it on your own.” Wade’s arm ends up around his shoulder again. This time, it stays, and Peter doesn’t really have the heart to object to it. “It’s a good thing too because I was gonna unalive you _so hard_.”

“And that’s exactly why I told you.” Peter glances up at him. “You set off my spidey-senses for the first time in forever.” Honestly, he can’t even remember the last time it happened.

“Oooo.” Wade gasps, eyes wide and mystified. “The _Peter Tingles_.”

Peter wrinkles his nose. “Please never call it that again.”

Wade shakes with another laugh, though it’s not as full bodied as the last one. Being tucked against his side means that Peter _feels_ that laugh vibrate through him. It’s—It’s not a _bad_ feeling, surprisingly.

“Since we’re on the topic of unmasking…” Peter clears his throat and looks away again.

Last night, after they had finished their patrol and investigated what might have been a whisper about some drug dealings (and something Peter will look into some more tonight), they picked up food and went to the only safe house Wade ever takes him to. He calls it the _Casa de Deadpool_. It’s tricked out with all sorts of random memorabilia that he’s collected in his time as Deadpool, and Peter only knows the stories of half of them.

Casa de Deadpool also has a _humongous_ TV, and they pigged out while watching Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (“Hey, does this Sherlock guy look familiar to you, Petey?” “A little. Why?” “Oh… Just wondering.”). Peter took off his mask to eat, but Wade didn’t. He rolled it to the bridge of his nose like normal, and that was that. Though he probably could have asked about it then, Peter didn’t address it.

But he’s addressing it now.

The laughter cuts off suddenly, and Wade goes tense against him. That was expected. Peter reaches up to lightly put a hand on the wrist resting over his shoulder. He gives it a little squeeze. “Don’t feel like you _have_ to do it just because I did, okay? I’m not going to push you.”

Wade actually looks surprised. He blinks down at him from the few inches of difference in their height, mouth opening and closing a couple times. Eventually, he turns into Peter to wrap his other arm around him too, bending down to tuck his face against the side of his neck. Peter can actually _hear_ the humming buzz of the image inducer, feeling it like static on his skin where they’re touching. Beneath it all, he can feel the scars and the uneven texture of Wade’s skin against his cheek.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re the best, Petey?” It’s barely more than a whisper and Peter feels it more than he hears it.

“You do.” He pats Wade on the back, returning the hug somewhat. “All the time.”

There’s a short laugh puffing across his skin, but it’s pulled away a moment later as he steps back. They look down to find Ellie squirming her way in between them, Aurora in her arms.

“Something wrong, cupcake?”

“There were hugs, and I wasn’t a part of them!” She looks downright indignant about it as she glares up at the both of them.

Wade gasps and scoops both Ellie and Aurora up in his arms, turning into a spin as he does it. “I am _so sorry_ , sweet light of my life! How can I ever make it up to you?”

“I have something that might help.” Peter undoes the buttons of his coat and seeks out the envelope tucked in one of the inside pockets—though not the one with his mask and gloves.

That stops the spinning, and both of them look at him. Without any effort at all, Wade separates Aurora from Ellie, tucking her under one arm while Ellie more or less sits curled in the crook of the other. Peter holds the envelope out to her, and she takes it, squinting suspiciously the whole time. She turns it over, her eyes growing wide when she sees the spider web sticker holding it closed.

Ellie looks up at him sharply, hope shining in her little face. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Your dad isn’t the only one who works with Spidey every now and then.” Peter grins and winks. “I’m his official photographer, you know.”

With all the care an eight-year old can manage, Ellie slowly opens the envelope, making sure not to rip the sticker. She pulls out a glossy picture of Spider-Man, printed on proper photo paper and everything. It’s actually a copy of something he sold to Jameson a while ago and was used in the paper, which is why there’s a label on the back that says it’s printed with the permission of Peter Parker (under which he scribbled his chicken scratch signature) for the Daily Bugle. He even managed to talk Betty into giving it an official stamp earlier today.

On the front of the picture, however, he signed with neat block letters that he painstakingly learned to write specifically for signatures as Spider-Man. Even the looping signature, the ‘i' dotted with a dumb looking spider, was practiced to look nothing like his own. Fans have stopped him on the street before, and he didn’t want anyone being able to compare Peter Parker’s signature against it. A lot of people associate him to Spider-Man, especially as the only person in New York who can seem to get a decent picture of him(self).

This particular picture is signed: _To Ellie – Keep being awesome. Love, Spider-Man_

Ellie looks at the picture with nothing short of reverence, her eyes wide. “This. Is. **_Amazing_**!” She launches out of Wade’s arms and into Peter’s, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!”

“I take it that you like it?”

“I _love_ it!” She turns, one of her arms locked firmly around his neck, and waves the picture at Wade. “Did you see it? Did you _see_ what Petey got for me?!”

“I saw, pumpkin.”

Wade speaks quietly and with a smile. It’s not the usual wide, goofy grin that Peter is used to seeing stretched under a mask. It’s small and soft, and the way he’s looking at him has Peter swallowing thickly. He’s not sure what to do with all that _emotion_ in Wade’s eyes, but he also can’t look away, pinned in place by the _affection_ there.

Eventually, very soon actually, Ellie squirms and he puts her down. She rushes to carefully put the picture back in the envelope and tuck it safely in her backpack. Once it’s on her back again, she holds her hands up to Wade. He passes Aurora to her after giving her a few quick kisses on her tiny muzzle and whispering how precious and perfect she is.

Peter watches as Ellie carries Aurora off towards the group of dogs running back and forth across the open field. It looks like another game of fetch is in order, this time with a stick because that’s something Aurora actually has the chance to pick it up. The tennis ball looked like it was just a little bit too big for her mouth.

A wall of heat is suddenly pressed against his side. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

“Thanks, Petey.” The arm is back around his shoulders and Peter leans into Wade with a sigh. He’s had a few years to get used to how touchy-feely Wade is, and now he just gives in without really thinking about it.

“She’s a cute kid.” Peter smiles, watching as Ellie sprints to try and keep up with the dogs. “And I can’t believe that you’ve never asked me for an autograph before.”

Wade snorts and rests his chin on the top of Peter’s head. “I did. The first day we met.”

Peter’s brows come together as he tries to recall that day. He doesn’t remember a lot of what was said, but he does remember one key thing. “Didn’t I throw you off a building?”

“Sure did.” He sighs, and there’s a wistful quality to it. “Because I slapped you on the ass. You were _super_ pissed, but you still saved me before I could hit the ground, and left me webbed to the wall. It was the best day of my life.” After a pause, he amends that. “Well, _second_ best day of my life.”

Something a little too much like _jealousy_ rears its ugly head inside him and Peter stomps down against it. “What was the first one, then?”

“Learning about Ellie.” Wade moves to hug Peter from behind, chin still on the top of his head. “I kinda wish Carmelita had told me about her from the start. I mean, I get why she _didn’t_ , but still.” He sighs, and his whole body sags to the point that Peter is pretty sure he’s the only reason Wade is still standing right now. “I never thought I’d be a dad, y’know? I would’ve liked to be there when Ellie was a baby. Hell, even if ‘Lita didn’t want me to be a part of her life, I would’ve given her money and made sure they were taken care of.”

After a few minutes of silence, Wade’s voice goes even quieter. “Maybe I even would’ve tried to do the right thing and married ‘Lita. If I’d been around for her and Ellie, maybe she’d still be here too.”

That weird jealous feeling had ebbed away, but that last little bit Wade says brings it back with a vengeance. Peter frowns down at the ground and doesn’t say anything as he tries to sort through what in the world is going on with him. Because what the _heck_ , Parker? He does, however, bring a hand up to rest it on Wade’s arm.

Seriously. Why is he feeling jealous (and please, God, that can’t really be what it is) over one of _Wade’s_ exes? Let alone the fact that she’s _dead_! Maybe it’s not jealousy. Maybe it’s just, like, Peter is feeling bad for his friend for missing out on what could have been a good life. Yeah, that’s probably it. Because to be jealous would mean—He doesn’t really want to think about what that could mean.

Eventually, Wade pulls away from him and continues down the path as Ellie moves further down the field. They walk in a companionable silence until Wade finally pulls up the sleeve of his leather jacket and checks his watch—which, Peter notes, also doubles as his image inducer.

“I think it’s time we go get some ice cream.” He strides forward with purpose, wading (hah!) through the dogs until he can scoop Ellie up into his arms. She shrieks and flails excitedly when he tells her what their plans are.

It’s good that they’re leaving. Aurora looks like she’s tired, and she flags behind Wade’s heels as they come back to where Peter is waiting. Watching Wade stride across the field like that sends something fluttering through his stomach, and he has to turn his focus to Aurora before getting caught up in wondering what _that_ is all about.

Though he’s never acted on it before, Peter has known for a long time that he… Well, he _admires_ the male form. It’s hard not to when everyone you tend to work with wears skin tight clothing most of the time and they’re all in _impeccable_ shape. Heck, there was even that one time where he kissed—No, actually, he was the one _getting_ kissed. Either way, Johnny Storm laid one on him while he was drunk as a skunk, and Reed had dumped the task of getting him back to his room squarely on Peter’s shoulders.

Yes, the kiss had been a surprise. Yes, it only lasted for a few seconds before Johnny literally passed out with his mouth open against Peter’s. Yes, it wasn’t very coordinated, and it was kind of sloppy. But did he still enjoy it just a little bit? ...Also, yes.

That said, the _bisexual_ aspect of his personality is not something he’s ever explored before. One drunken half-kiss from Johnny Storm is all he’s ever had with a guy, but Wade… Peter could see himself, maybe, giving it a try with someone like him because, he’s just—Wow. But again, also, this is _Wade_. Could he…? Sure, he looks good in acid washed jeans and a tight t-shirt under a leather jacket. And he's built like a Greek God. And he’s smokin’ hot and—

Holy crap.

Is Peter _shallow_?

Peter’s worldview is rocked as he’s blindsided by this realization. Before today, he’s definitely _admired_ Wade’s body on multiple occasions, but he’s never even pretended to entertain the idea of something happening between them. First of all, he was with Mary Jane for the majority of the time that he’s known Wade—this last year notwithstanding. And secondly, Peter Parker doesn’t cheat. He’s very faithful, and he doesn’t even like _thinking_ of someone else when he’s in a relationship.

So, that said, why is he even considering that Wade would be the perfect candidate if he _did_ decide to explore his probable bisexuality? Is he just lonely? And why hadn’t he thought about it before? Is it because he finds Wade’s old face hot and—Jesus, he really is shallow, isn’t he? All of his previous partners were incredibly attractive, and the image inducer makes Wade look—

God, he just looks so _good_.

He looks amazing, and now Peter is doubting whether or not it’s _because_ he looks good now that he’s attracted to him, or if it’s the situation. This is really the first time they’re hanging out as Peter and Wade, and not Spider-Man and Deadpool. There’s a distinction between who they are in the costumes and who they are outside of them. It’s a learning experience, and whatever Peter is learning… he likes it.

Except the part where he apparently only likes someone if they’re unfairly _gorgeous_.

And the worst part of it all is that Wade likes him. Or, at least, he likes _Spider-Man_. Even if Peter actually wanted to try being with a man (which, he’s not even sure if he does), he couldn’t act on anything with _Wade_. He’s made some big mistakes in his life, but screwing over his best friend’s feelings like that would be a massively bad move. Peter can’t just give Wade _hope_ like that only to turn around and—and not do anything to follow it up.

It can’t be a hit it and quit it one-time thing. Not with Wade.

Peter shakes his head and forces a smile on his face for when they reach him. He gets the leash from Ellie’s bag and puts it back on Aurora, though he picks her up so she can have a chance to catch her breath. They head out together in search of the nearest ice cream shop, Wade and Ellie making up some kind of song about it as they go. It makes it easier for Peter to smile.

For now, he’s just going to ignore everything that just hit him like a punch from Rhino. Maybe if he ignores it, those thoughts will just go away, and hopefully they’ll take that weird, slick jealous-like feeling still clinging to the inside of his ribs too. If he tries hard enough, Peter might even be able to convince himself that it was just a passing fancy or something similar.

It was just a random thought that doesn’t mean anything.


	4. Wednesday

Peter was wrong.

Holy crap, he was _so wrong_.

Random thoughts don’t mean nothing, and this is definitely _not_ a passing fancy.

Without Wade to distract him with ridiculous chatter, Peter’s patrol last night was quiet. It left him alone with his thoughts far more than he wanted to be. He couldn’t _stop_ thinking until he crawled into bed way too late in the night, still wearing the suit, and cuddled Aurora until he passed out.

Now he’s on day two of Wade and Ellie kindly kidnapping him and the dog. It’s not like he could say ‘no’ when Wade texts him asking if they can hang out again when he’s done with work. There’s no reason not to, and, honestly, he doesn’t want to decline the invitation.

He is, however, very surprised to find Dopinder waiting in front of his apartment for him when he gets back with Aurora from her walk. He frowns a bit at that, because how would Dopinder know where he lived if—Never mind. Peter should have expected this the moment he told Wade who he is. Of _course_ he would have looked him up. This is _Wade,_ and he’s a world class mercenary for a reason. He’s had Peter’s name and face for almost forty-eight hours at this point. He probably had everything on _Peter Parker_ that he could find within hours of him walking away.

Wade has infamously little to no self-control when it comes to Peter—to _Spider-Man_. He’s always been touchy-feely, but when it was obvious that it was uncomfortable for Peter, he backed off. And the outrageous flirting was quickly reined in around other people after Peter lectured him over it. The odd comment might’ve slipped through here and there, but Wade made an effort.

But none of that rare self-control is evident right now. You can teach a killer not to kill, but you can’t erase who he used to be. All those skills are still in him, and finding Peter’s address is just proof that Wade’s not losing his touch.

Sometimes, he wishes Wade would stop showing so much restraint. Peter has realized, over the last few days, that he’s not as bothered by the touching and the flirting as he used to be. Nowadays, he quips back easily and has no reservations about tucking against Wade’s side on colder evenings, or leaning his head on his shoulder when he’s tired. That all came about naturally the more time they spent together and the better he came to know Wade.

Without questioning it, though he does pause to roll his eyes, Peter gets in the cab. Dopinder starts a conversation as they pull out into traffic. “May I ask, how do you know Mr. Po—uh—Mr. Wilson?”

Peter smiles at the slip up. “Through work.”

Clearly Dopinder doesn’t know that he knows who Wade really is. It’s commendable that he’s trying to be discreet about it and all, and Peter is happy that Wade has good people in his corner when he needs them. There was a long time there where he didn’t have anyone.

“His—um—” Dopinder glances back at him in the mirror and Peter meets his eyes. “His _after dark_ work? Or—Well… Hm.”

“Does Deadpool do any other kind of work?” Peter quirks an eyebrow, curious. As much as he hates to admit it, there are still huge gaps in his knowledge regarding both Wade Wilson and Deadpool, despite the files SHIELD shared with him.

Dopinder laughs and shakes his head. “Not that I am aware of. But he does not like to tell me a great many things. I am often, as you say, kept in the dark.”

“What _does_ he tell you?” Honestly, Peter is curious. Does Wade have a confidant in Dopinder, or is he just a useful driver to get from point A to point B?

“Hmm. A very good question, Mr. Parker.” He shrugs and drums his fingers on the steering wheel in tune to the jovial tinkling of the Indian music playing on the radio. “I hear many things about his jobs. And Spider-Man. DP is most fond of him.”

A bit of a blush heats his cheeks, and Peter looks out the window, hoping that Dopinder doesn’t notice it. “Yeah, I figured that much.”

“Are you sworn to secrecy about Miss Ellie too?”

“Of course.” Peter steadies Aurora with one hand when she stands up with her paws against the side of the door so she can see out the window. “And I hope you won’t go blabbing to anyone else about her.”

Unsurprisingly, Dopinder actually _pales_ slightly. “I would not _dare_.” He swallows thickly. “DP was quite explicit when detailing what he would do to me if I spoke of her to anyone else.”

“Except me.” If anything, Dopinder pales more at that. Peter snorts. “You literally picked us up together yesterday. I think it’s safe to say that you and I can talk about her together. I don’t think Wade will mind.”

With a heavy sigh, Dopinder visibly relaxes. And then he pulls over against the curb again. “We have arrived. DP and Miss Ellie are waiting for you.”

Peter pulls his wallet out and flicks through the minimal cash he keeps on hand, though it’s currently more than usual thanks to Mary Jane. “How much was the ride?”

“Oh, no, no.” Dopinder shakes his head. “Do not worry about it. DP already paid me.”

“With _money_?” Because Peter is well aware that whenever they’ve driven anywhere with Dopinder, Wade only gives him a high-five. Which is stupid, because he’s got more money than he knows what to do with, so why wouldn’t he pay someone who helps him out all the time?

Dopinder nods repeatedly. “Oh, yes. He does not always have money in his costume, so most often DP pays me in large monthly installments.” He grins brightly, practically beaming. “It is more than enough that I do not need to worry about taking actual fares. He is most generous.”

“Oh.” Peter finds himself smiling before he realizes it. “Well, that’s great, and thank you for the ride.” He holds his hand up through the little window. “How about a crisp high five as a tip?”

“I would be honoured!” Dopinder reaches out to high five him back. “Please have a good day!”

Peter gathers Aurora up in his arms again and gets out with one last goodbye. The cab pulls away almost immediately, leaving Peter alone in front of a higher-end apartment building. It’s got a good ten stories on the crap shack that he lives in. Everything is _clean_ and there’s no cracks or dirt or—Jesus, is that an actual _doorman_?

The first set of doors are all glass. Through them, Peter can see that there’s a desk to the side in the space before the second set of equally glass and no less ornate doors. There’s a guy sitting at the desk, and he stands up to open the first doors. He gestures for Peter to step into what amounts to a security entrance, apparently, and he even tips his hat.

What year is this? Peter’s awkwardness is sky-high right now. This is _so_ not a place he belongs. One of his shoes literally has double-sided duct tape holding the sole together! Is this even the right building? Casa de Deadpool has a layer of dust an inch thick. How could Wade freaking Wilson live _here_?

“Hi, sorry, can I ask you a question?” Peter puts Aurora down and points inside. “I think I’m here to meet a friend, but I’m not sure what apartment he’s actually in?”

The doorman raises his eyebrows and glances down at Aurora, then back up at Peter. “You _are_ Mr. Parker, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am. So this is the right building, I guess.”

He nods. “Mr. Wagner informed me that you would be coming. He’s in unit 904. On the ninth floor.” With that, the doorman opens the inside doors with a tap of a keycard to the lock and holds it open for him.

Peter doesn’t even blink at the wrong name. “Thank you.”

Aurora trots along next to him as he quickly makes his way to the elevator. This has got to be one of the most expensive apartment buildings he’s ever been in, because it’s just so neat and bright and—Is that a _water feature_? Holy crap. Even the elevator is fancy. There’s a kind of cage, like they had in the old days, that parts before the actual elevator doors open.

Paranoid after one too many clips on the internet, Peter scoops Aurora up into his arms and carries her for the whole of the elevator trip.

When he steps out onto the ninth floor, it’s to a brightly lit hallway with big windows at either end. There isn’t a speck of dirt in the place, and Peter can actually smell the cleaning products used to keep it that way. He shuffles down the hall to the number the doorman gave him and knocks, hoping no one else comes out of their immaculate units to stare at him and his jeans that don’t fit right because he bought them at a thrift store.

When the door opens, Peter isn’t surprised to find that Wade is still using the image inducer. What he does find truly startling is the difference between the man before him now and the one he saw yesterday, or even Monday. Wade wore fitted shirts and jeans, and a leather jacket. He looked _cool_. Today Wade is wearing a glittery neon pink _tank top_ that may as well have been painted on for how tight it is. It's matched by a pair of pajama pants covered in various unicorns. Also pink. He looks ridiculous, and Peter should have expected him to be nothing less.

Ellie is next to him, and she’s wearing a matching outfit. Which begs the question: where in the heck did Wade get one in his size? He must have made it himself. Wade _is_ pretty handy with a needle and thread. He’s bragged on more than one occasion that he made the Deadpool costume himself and his sewing skills have only gotten better since.

Peter stares, because how can he not? The muscles in Wade’s arms are corded and thick and _very nice_. Oh Jesus, is he drooling? He better not be! See? Random thoughts aren’t so random. Wade is practically rippling in muscle from head to toe and that—It’s just— _How_ is that fair?

“Sweetpea!” Ellie gasps and elbows her way past Wade, arms spread and open for Aurora.

It’s another new name, and Peter doesn’t even bat an eyelash at it. “Hi, Ellie.” He steps back and holds Aurora up a little higher. “You can have her on one condition.”

Ellie drops her hands and stops short of stepping into the hall. She squints up at him, head tilted with suspicion. “What _kind_ of condition?”

“You need to say ‘hello’ to me too.” He raises his eyebrows and smiles.

Wade snorts and nudges Ellie in the back with his knee. “I don’t think a hug would be out of place, would it, pumpkin?”

She sighs loudly and steps forward to wrap her arms around Peter’s waist, hugging tightly. “Hi, Petey.” To her credit, she sounds sincere. “Did you have a good day?”

“I had a great day, thanks.” He crouches and puts Aurora on the ground again, passing Ellie the leash. “She’s yours for the rest of the day.”

Aurora goes straight into Ellie’s waiting arms, yipping and squirming in excitement. Ellie starts babbling baby speak and, together, they disappear into the apartment. To get back in, Ellie actually ducks between Wade’s legs. He leans to the side and lifts one leg to make it easier for her, laughing as they scurry away to do whatever it is that they’re going to do.

“Thanks, Petey.” Wade’s smile is practically shining. “I really appreciate you letting her have her fill with Madam Flufferton. It means a lot.”

“Like I could deny someone that cute.” He shrugs and tries not to shift too much. It’s hard to be pinned under all the _affection_ basically radiating off Wade’s form. Peter doesn’t know how to deal with it now that he can actually see his eyes. It’s easier when they’re both wearing masks.

Wade doesn’t move. He stays right where he is, blocking the door and looking at Peter with just the sappiest of expressions. They’re moments away from him swooning against the frame, and Peter would love to avoid that if he could.

He clears his throat. “Can I—uh—come in, Mr. _Wagner_?”

“Right, yeah, of course!” Wade steps out of the way and gestures him in. As soon as the door is shut, he leans in as Peter is shrugging out of his coat. “I’m _William Wagner_ in this place. And she’s Elizabeth Wagner or Ellie for short.”

Peter raises an eyebrow and glances at him. “Your name is _Willy_?”

A wide, pleased grin splits across Wade’s face. “Damn right it is! Had to mention my most impressive feature.” He ends with a saucy wink.

Now, Peter could take the bait and ask more, or he could change the subject and save himself an embarrassing conversation that would just put more thoughts in his head. Decision made quite quickly, he looks away and spots an actual coat rack standing next to the door. He hangs his coat there before stepping further into the apartment and sniffing.

“Are you cooking something?”

“Hell yes, I am!” Wade claps a hand on Peter’s shoulder and guides him towards the kitchen. It’s open to the living room with a curved island separating them. Everything is marble and wood accents with clean white furniture decorated with pillows and blankets in soft pastels. Essentially, the whole place is the polar opposite of the almost warehouse-like Casa de Deadpool.

The island itself is covered in food in various stages of preparation. Wade puffs out his chest and gestures at it grandly. “I’m making us a whole Mexican buffet!”

Peter isn’t surprised, and he’d complain about how often they eat Mexican around each other if it wasn’t for the fact that it smells delicious and his mouth is watering. He gets steered onto one of the stools on the outside edge of the island and catches his first glance of where Ellie and Aurora ended up.

Ellie has a half-dozen dog toys spread out across the living room floor, and she’s kneeling in front of Aurora with a bag of treats in her hand. Aurora is intently focused on them and waiting patiently to be given one. “Sit, Sweetpea. Sit!”

Aurora’s butt drops and she’s promptly rewarded with one of the tiny round treats.

“For the record, she knows most of the basics.” Peter twists around on the stool, watching as Ellie holds out her hand in the universal sign for ‘ _shake_ ’. She ignores him and gives the command, clearly delighted when Aurora puts her paw in her palm.

“You should teach her some new ones, sweetie!” Wade goes back behind the island to a waiting cutting board and a half-chopped green pepper. “Teach her something neat. Like, how to pee on command so you can sic her on your enemies.”

Oh Jesus. Peter sighs and resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t.”

“But think of the _shenanigans_ , Petey!” Wade throws his arms wide, the pepper in one hand and the knife in the other. “She could be the scourge of the schoolyard. Where’s your love of adventure?”

“There are absolutely people out there who would kick that tiny dog for peeing on them.” And, unfortunately, Peter has been witness to that one too many times in his years as Spider-Man. “I should also remind you that Aura is my _ex-wife’s_ dog. The last thing I need is to teach her something that MJ would hate.”

“Spoilsport.” Wade rolls his eyes, face scrunching up in a pout as he goes back to chopping. “You’re taking all the fun out of it.”

“Oh, so sorry.” He keeps his voice even and deadpan. It lasts for only a moment before he snorts out of it and leans forward. “Hey, is there anything I can do to help?”

Rather than answer, Wade finishes chopping the green pepper and starts in on a red one. He hums to himself, expertly slicing it up with ten times the speed and finesse that Peter could do. “I dunno. If you wanna go stir the meat, y’could.”

Peter glances at the stove. “You mean that meat that’s already fully cooked, covered, and just sitting on the warm setting?”

“Y’caught me.” Wade wiggles his eyebrows. “I just wanted you to feel useful.” The grin he flashes at him makes Peter’s heart skip a beat. “Don’t worry about it, cutie-pie. I just have these veggies to finish and then the chicken to slice up for _los fajitas_.”

“I could do that.” Peter stands up and rolls up his sleeves. “Let me cut up the chicken.”

For a moment, Wade gives him a doubtful look. It’s a little insulting, actually, especially when he raises the hand with the knife and does a few fancy spinning tricks with it. The blade is a blur between his fingers. “I’ve never seen you handle a blade, sweetheart. You sure you can use one in the kitchen?”

Another one of those _what the heck_ moments strikes him, and Peter finds his mouth going dry as he watches Wade being so _adept_ with the knife. He even flips it in the air and catches it without looking, every motion as easy as if the knife were an extension of himself. This is definitely something that Peter has admired about him in the past.

Wade, for all his chatter and silliness, is a master at what he does. He’s always in control of every action he takes in battle. There isn’t a single movement that isn’t a necessity; he practically dances with his katanas. It’s awe inspiring, especially when he does it without killing a single person. He might not have the reverse blade of Rurouni Kenshin, but Wade has gotten really good at using the back of his blades to take people out with _strength alone_.

The only time Wade actually uses the sharp side of his katana is when he’s up against someone he knows can take the cuts and won’t bleed out. He’s just… Wade is _amazing_. Peter can’t believe he’s only realizing this _just now_ and he should probably tell him about it at some point.

He blinks back to reality to find Wade leaning over the counter and waving a hand in his face. “Earth to Peter-Man. Are you in there, Peter-Man?”

“Yeah.”

Wade’s eyebrows pull together in a concerned frown. “You zoned out on me there. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Peter swallows thickly and holds out his hand. “I might not be able to do those fancy knife tricks of yours, but I know how to slice chicken. Just tell me how you want it.”

The concern is wiped away in an instant, replaced with a salacious grin, and a little colour lifts in Wade’s cheeks. His eyelids droop, and his voice pitches low and rumbling. “How I _want_ it, huh?”

“Don’t make it dirty, Wade. Your daughter is _right there_.” Peter sighs and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I know it’s hard for you—”

“Hell yeah, it is.”

“—But maybe you should try and keep it in your pants when children are around.”

Wade’s eyes flick over Peter’s shoulder briefly before he leans in closer. “And what about when she’s _not_ around? Can I—”

Peter holds up his hand, one finger actually pressing against Wade’s lips and stopping him. They’re firmer than they look, likely from the scars beneath the buzzing field of the image inducer tingling across Peter’s skin. “Ask me later.”

That makes Wade’s eyebrows go up almost to his hairline. “Wait, really?”

At this point, Peter really isn’t sure. He chooses not to answer and holds out his hand. “The knife, Wade.”

They stare each other down for a few seconds before Wade seems to wilt slightly. He sighs dramatically and turns around, grabbing one from the block next to the stove. Another cutting board is pulled from what looks like a number of them lined up against the backsplash behind the coffee maker. The tray of chicken is keeping warm in the oven, and Wade sets everything out on the counter in front of Peter. It smells and looks amazing: marinated, covered in seasoning, and cooked to perfection.

“Did you seriously cook all of this?”

“I have many talents, Petey.” Wade shrugs and scrapes the peppers into a bowl. “A butterface like mine has gotta have some tricks up my sleeve to help with the wooing.”

“Wade—” Peter straightens his shoulders, ready to berate him because he _hates_ it when Wade starts ragging on himself like that. It’s made all the worse because the face looking at him now, the one Wade can only have through an image inducer, is something you’d be more likely to find in GQ magazine.

“Just slice ‘em lengthwise for me.” Wade gestures at the chicken and puts a plate down next to them. He turns back to what he’d been doing. “Y’know. For fajitas.”

Peter knows a topic he’s supposed to drop when he sees one. He doesn’t always listen to that instinct, but he does today. “Sure. Okay.”

They finish preparing the last of dinner in silence. Peter keeps his attention on the chicken, slicing carefully because he doesn’t want to accidentally cut himself. But he doesn’t need to look up to know that Wade glances at him every now and then. His spidey-senses always let him know when someone has their eyes on him, though it’s just an unassuming buzz in the back of his mind.

When everything is ready, the veggies and meat get plated or bowled and lined up along the counter in a kind of buffet line. Wade adds a pot of refried beans, another pot of Spanish Rice, and a big bag of shredded cheese. While Wade puts on the finishing touches and gets out the various wraps and taco shells, Peter gets a head start on the dishes gathered in the sink. He figures it’s the least he can do since Wade made dinner for them.

It’s all horribly domestic, isn’t it? Peter can’t help feeling a little guilty about it because he never really did stuff like this with Mary Jane. Not often, at least. They did have those cozy moments every once in a while, but between her day job and her devotion to acting in the evenings, and between Peter running himself ragged for the Bugle and his time as Spider-Man, they just never really had time for _them_.

Yeah, sure, Peter might have spent too much time as Spider-Man, but Mary Jane was really focused on her career too. When she was home, it was at night. That’s when she was most lonely and wanting her husband with her. But he wasn’t home, and he didn’t want kids either. Though he can’t imagine why she did. She was pretty absent too, yet she still adopted Aurora before the end.

“Alright!” Wade claps his hands loudly to get their attention. “The grub, as they say, is _on_. Ellie, go wash your hands.”

She gives him a withering look, but he raises an eyebrow and points. Just like her father, she sighs dramatically and gets up. “C’mon, Sweetpea. Time to clean up.” Dutifully, Aurora scuttles after her down the hall. 

The adults choose to just wash their hands in the kitchen sink. Wade takes the towel and wraps it around Peter’s hands, drying them for him. It’s not something that should make his pulse quicken, but it does because Peter’s heart is a _traitor_. He looks up at Wade, trying to figure out why hanging out with Wade-the-family-man feels so very different from every other time.

But Wade won’t meet his eyes, and he clears his throat loudly when he steps away. He glances towards the hall and then back down at Peter, mouth open. And then he closes it, a slight frown pulling the corners down. And what the heck is that about? Wade has never not said what’s on his mind. _Ever_. This must be a sign of the apocalypse.

“Is something wrong, Wade?” Peter tilts his head, confused.

“Nah.” He swallows thickly. “It’s nothing. C’mon.” Wade gives himself a shake and turns towards the food. “Guests get to fill their plate first.”

Peter holds up his hands and takes a step back. “Nope. _Kids_ fill their plate first.”

“You think I trust that little munchkin to not take forever?” Wade rolls his eyes and grabs a plate. “I make it for her because I’m the one with the _skills_.”

Sure enough, he loads up a burrito with both kinds of meat, a handful of cheese, a variety of veggies, and he slaps the beans and rice on top. It’s a huge burrito for an eight-year-old, but Wade rolls it like a pro and takes it to the dining table set up behind the couch area. He flicks on a light and grabs a placemat from the stack at the center of the table, setting everything out for Ellie before coming back to make his own plate.

This time, Wade gives Peter a shove to make him go first. Now there’s no reason to hesitate, and Peter fills up his plate with a fajita and a taco, keeping the rice and beans as sides. He doesn’t want to take too much food just yet, but he’ll definitely have more if there are leftovers after Wade goes through. The only difference between their plates by the time they sit down at the table is that Wade also made himself a massive burrito—even bigger than the one Ellie got.

Wade takes the chair at the head of the table with Ellie’s plate on his right, and Peter takes the seat to his left. He would be facing Ellie, if she were here. She sure is taking a long time to wash her hands, and Peter suspects that Aurora is the reason for it.

After a pointed look at her empty chair, Wade sighs and cups his hands around his mouth. It’s entirely unnecessary because he can be _really loud_ without even trying. “ _Ellie_!”

“Coming!”

There’s a thump down the hall, followed by the many thumps of socked feet running. Ellie’s hands are still wet and she’s rubbing them dry on her pants as she comes around the corner. Aurora is jumping excitedly at her legs, yipping her little head off.

“Aura.” Peter uses his warning tone. Her little head whips towards him, and she comes over immediately. He picks her up, pushes the seat out next to him with his foot, and puts her there. “Sit.”

Her butt drops and she looks up at him expectantly. Peter actually feels a little bad now that they’re about to eat. “Sorry, girl. There’s nothing for you to have right now.” He wasn’t really expecting to be invited over for dinner when they left for their walk earlier. “You’ll have to wait until we get home.”

“Oh, wait!” Ellie jumps up again, ignoring Wade’s sigh.

She runs to the kitchen and fusses around in one of the cupboards under the island. There’s the thump of something heavy being pulled out, and then she practically climbs up onto the counter to reach one of the higher cupboards to grab a bowl. With that in hand, she disappears back out of sight behind the island. Peter gives Wade a confused glance, and is answered with a shrug.

At the sound of kibble hitting a bowl, Aurora turns around and practically vibrates in place. Peter puts a hand on her back. “Stay.”

She does, but she whines when Ellie comes back to the dining table with a bowl of kibble in hand. “We picked this up for her!”

“Oh, that’s sweet. But you didn’t have—”

“She can’t _not_ eat with us!” Ellie puts the bowl on the chair, but she puts it against the back of it so Aurora can’t push it off. “There you go, Sweetpea.” She pats her on the head and goes back to her chair to settle in.

Peter melts a little on the inside. “Well, thank you, Ellie. That was very nice of you.”

Ellie beams at him as she kneels on her chair. With that, she turns her attention to the burrito and pulls the whole plate to the edge of the table. She ends up having to use both hands to bring the burrito to the very edge of the plate, eyeing it up like she can’t decide how she should eat it. Peter is just as baffled.

Wade watches her and then taps the table at her elbow. “Do I need to get the bib?”

Ellie frowns and looks from the burrito to Wade. “Yeah, maybe.”

He shakes his head with a fond smile and ruffles her hair on his way past. When he comes back from the kitchen, he has something that looks like those capes that hairdressers put on you for a haircut. Wade drapes it around Ellie’s front and clips it together behind her neck. The end of it gets tucked under her plate, forming an extra extension of the table for her. Ellie grins and takes a messy bite, chunks of chicken falling out of her burrito and onto the bib.

“You don’t have to be _purposefully_ messy.” Wade laughs and drops back into his chair.

“I can’t believe _you_ , of all people, is saying that.” Peter crunches into his own taco with a smile. “I’ve seen how you eat. You don’t even stop to breathe sometimes.”

Wade shrugs and picks up a fajita, his pinky raised as if that alone is going to make a difference from how messy this meal can get. “That’s only so you don’t have to see my skin for very long. It’s not a pretty sight, and I would hate for you to lose your lunch right after eating it.”

“I’ve never been bothered by it before.” Peter shrugs and makes sure to maintain eye contact when Wade looks to him in surprise. He needs him to understand that he’s being serious. “I’d actually prefer if you would turn off the image inducer when there’s no one else around.”

Unsurprisingly, Wade goes still. He narrows his eyes and lowers the untouched fajita. “Why?”

“Well, for starters, I’ve never seen _you_.” Peter mentally kicks himself for bringing this up again, even after he resolved not to push Wade about it. “You’ll show me in your own time, but I want you to know that it really doesn’t bother me.”

Wade just looks confused and glances down at himself. “But… this _is_ me.”

Peter shakes his head and gestures at him. “This _was_ you.” He takes another bite of his taco. “This isn’t the you that I know now.”

“You ain’t makin’ sense, Petey.” Wade shares a look with Ellie, though she doesn’t seem even half as confused as him before turning a frown back on Peter.

Okay, so the conversation is just going to keep on going then. Peter kinda wishes that he hadn’t said anything now.

He sighs and puts his taco down. “I met you _after_ you were Deadpool for, like, ten years, right? You weren’t Deadpool before that. This—” He gestures at Wade again. “This is you _before_ Deadpool. Does that make sense now?”

Apparently not, because Wade is staring at him hard. “You never knew me before I was crazy.”

Now, see, that’s something Peter doesn’t believe. “You’re not _really_ crazy, though.” In fact, he’s pretty sure that most of Wade’s personality when he’s in the Deadpool costume is an act. He makes himself seem silly and ridiculous so people will underestimate him, so people won’t know how _smart_ he is.

“He kinda is sometimes.” Ellie chooses then to chime in. “But I like it. He’s cool.”

“Aw, princess.” Wade gives her a simpering smile and reaches over to thumb at her cheek as if he were wiping away some food. Instead, he leaves a smear of sauce behind. “I love you too.”

“ _Daddy_!” She shrieks with laughter and grabs a napkin to wipe it off.

Peter knows a deflection when he sees it. Wade is going to try and cut the conversation here and Ellie is going to be the distraction. But Peter hasn’t gotten a resolution, and, as much as he doesn’t want to push Wade, he also wants a definitive answer.

When Wade looks at him, Peter raises an eyebrow in question. He looks away again, shoulders hunching in slightly as he leans over his plate. “Not tonight.” And, with that, he stuffs most of the fajita into his mouth.

There. That’s the kind of answer Peter was waiting for.

Smiling, he reaches out and touches Wade’s wrist lightly. He can feel the bumps and ridges of the scar tissue that covers him from head to toe. “You know you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. You didn’t push me intentionally, and I’m not going to push you.”

It takes a while for Wade to stop using food as a distraction. There’s a smear of hot sauce in the corner of his mouth when he finally looks up with a small, grateful smile. Peter is halfway to reaching out to wipe it away when he catches himself and, instead, offers him a napkin.

Ellie, thankfully, decides she’s done letting the adults do all the talking. She launches into a story about her day at school and how she showed off her _autographed_ picture of Spider-Man. When she gets to the part about how Carlos accused her of faking it, she pounds her little fists on the table and angrily details how she kicked him in the butt for it. The teacher made her write an apology note and said she’s going to tell Emily (her adopted mother, apparently). Ellie doesn’t seem to care about that.

Peter presses his lips together with a frown. Part of him wants to lecture her about how it’s not right to resort to violence when you’re angry, but she’s not his kid and it’s not his place to say that. Wade should, but he doesn’t. If anything, he’s more likely to teach Ellie a way to hurt someone without getting caught. Wade reinforces his suspicion when he just nods along.

“Little sh- _poop head_ totally deserved it.”

Wade gets a swift kick to the ankle under the table, which Peter quickly realizes is also a violent action and could come off wrong. He gets a frown and a kick back in response.

Rolling his eyes, Peter makes a show of getting his phone out of his pocket. “If you want to prove Carlos wrong, I know how to do it.” He starts tapping at his phone, pretending that he’s sending a text message. “Obviously you’re going to need a picture _with_ Spider-Man. Then Carlos can’t say you’re lying.”

“Is—Is that _possible_?” Ellie gapes at him, eyes huge.

“Probably.” He shrugs and lowers his phone. “If he’s free tonight, I bet he’ll swing by. I can give him the information and we’ll see what happens.” Peter gestures at her with his phone and then holds it like he’s going to text again. “But you’re going to have to promise not to hit your classmates anymore.”

Ellie bites her lip and glances between him and Wade. Eventually, she settles back on Peter with a brilliant smile. “Okay! No more hitting! I promise!”

“Great!” Peter rewards her with a bright smile of his own and sends his fake text with a flourish. “There. Now we just have to wait and see.”

“You’re the _best_ , Petey.” Ellie is bouncing in her chair, dislodging more bits of her burrito onto the bib and not even caring about it.

Wade sighs softly. “Isn’t he just?”

Peter glances at him again and is instantly taken aback by the warmth in Wade’s eyes. Jesus, does he _always_ look at him like that? If Peter knew this is what those eyes looked like, he might have swooned for Wade a lot sooner.

No, wait. He’s not swooning _now_. That’s totally _not_ what’s happening.

Thankfully, Ellie saves the day by launching back into talking about everything else that happened in her classes. From how Marvin was dared to walk across the whole schoolyard on his hands but fell halfway through, to how Miss O’Leary taught them a song called [_Señor Don Gato_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gqpvy8p-WzQ). Of course, Ellie had to give them a messy rendition of it, though she forgot half the lyrics.

Regardless, Peter and Wade both applaud her performance.

They both hum and nod along through her stories, and even ask questions here and there. Since Ellie is only in the second grade, there isn’t much stuff that interests Peter, but he makes the effort. He wonders if she’d be interested in science classes when she’s older. That would be nice. Then they’d have more to talk about. Which—Okay, wait. Why is he imagining being in her life several years from now? Days like this aren’t going to be a common thing.

Wade ends up getting seconds for himself and Peter at the same time. He sets aside enough to make Ellie a leftovers lunch for the next day, but they finish off the rest between the two of them. Ellie barely makes it through the one burrito Wade made for her, and Wade finishes it for her with much lip smacking and finger licking.

Ellie and Aurora return to playing in the living room together while Peter helps Wade clean up. It’s got that _domestic_ feel to it again, especially as Wade starts humming and swinging his hips. The pajama pants hug his legs and butt a little _too_ nicely for Peter’s liking, and it’s a struggle not to watch him move as he slips and slides around the kitchen to put things away with a flourish.

“I say we watch something on Disney+ now.” Wade drops the last spoon into the drawer and closes it with a bump from his hip. “What do you think?”

Peter didn’t really have any plans aside from going out as Spider-Man around nine o’clock tonight. It’s not even half past six yet, so there’s still a lot of time for him to hang out here. Ellie would probably appreciate the extra time with Aurora and, to be honest, Peter doesn’t actually want to leave. Not yet, at least.

Which is how he finds himself settled down on the opposite end of a luxurious leather sofa from Wade. Ellie sits in the middle with Aurora lying on her back in the bowl of her crossed legs. The remote is surrendered to her, and she scrolls through the available movies before deciding, with a grin that is _far_ too wicked for an eight-year-old, on the Frozen sequel.

“You’re the worst kind of person.” Wade ducks his head to whisper in her ear, but Ellie just flips the remote into his lap and leans back, hands already scratching idly at Aurora’s exposed stomach.

Peter hasn’t even seen the first Frozen movie, but he feels weird pointing that out so he keeps his mouth shut and resigns himself to watching them in the wrong order.

They’re not even a full hour into the movie when Wade’s phone rings with a distinctly doorbell-like ringtone. He picks it up and answers it without looking. “Willy here.”

His spider-bite enhanced hearing means Peter can usually hear a lot more than most—including their phone calls, even when the volume is on low. He looks at Wade curiously from the corner of his eye when the voice of the doorman from earlier announces that there’s a visitor requesting to come up to the apartment.

Wade frowns, glancing at Peter and Ellie. “Who is it?”

“ _A previous visitor of yours. A Miss Neena Thurman?_ ”

Peter has no idea who that is, but Wade seems to. His eyebrows go up. “Oh. Yeah, sure. Send her up.”

Ellie, blissfully unable to listen in on phone calls like Peter can, pauses in giving Aurora a full-body rub down and gives him a suspicious look. “Send _who_ up?”

Wade ends the call and stands up, ruffling Ellie’s hair as he does. “Just your Auntie Dom.”

He goes to the door and waits there, hand outstretched and pushed into the folds of the leather jacket on the coat rack. Peter knows, without having to go check, that Wade has his hand on a weapon. Even though he’s got a name, he’s still cautious of who could be coming up.

Both Ellie and Peter watch him, and Ellie flinches at the curt knock. Peter heard the footsteps from the elevator to the door and was expecting it. Wade leans over to look through the peephole, and he waits a moment. There’s a shuffling sound on the other side of the door and his hand drops.

Wade steps to the side and opens the door with a smile. “Heya, Dom. How’s it going?”

“Always good when I have Lady Luck on my side.” Domino, as Peter has always known her, steps into the apartment with grace and an ease that says that this is a comfortable space for her. She’s been here before, probably many times judging by that phone call, and Peter pushes back against a weird twist of jealousy that curls up tight at the top of his belly.

Peter has met Domino the few times that Wade has brought her along on missions. She always had her dark hair in an afro while wearing a leather outfit that left nothing to the imagination. Today, she has her hair all drawn up into a poof on the top of her head, leaving the sides pulled back cleanly. Her outfit, however, screams of comfort: a pair of jeans tucked into her boots, an oversized hoodie zipped only to her navel, and a high-collared crop top beneath it baring most of her belly.

There’s a manila envelope tucked under her arm, and that’s what grabs Peter’s attention first.

“You’re looking good.” Domino nods at Wade and gives him an obvious once over. “Nice. Random or pre-mutation?”

“This is all me, baby.” Wade brings up an arm to flex, and that distracts Peter almost instantly. “What’s shaking, Dom? Not like you to drop by unannounced.”

Ellie snorts and murmurs so only Peter can hear her. “Bradley announced her by phone call.”

That must be the name of the doorman. Peter muffles a huff of laughter, and Ellie grins at him knowingly, eyes bright.

Wade and Domino, however, don’t hear them.

“This.” She wiggles the envelope under Wade’s nose as she walks by, attention turning to the couch. “Hey, Ellie. What’re you—Oh.” She pauses, eyebrows up, when she finally notices Peter sitting with his legs up and ankles crossed on the coffee table. “Well, _hello_.”

Before Peter can lift a hand in greeting, Domino is turning back to Wade and dropping her voice into a whisper. Too bad for her, but he has _super hearing_ , as dumb as it is to call it that. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot date?”

Wade clasps his hands over his heart and sighs in that overly dramatic way of his, holding back on actually swooning. “If _only_.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and reaches to grab the remote, turning the volume on the TV up. “Ignore him.”

“I find it hard to do that sometimes.” Peter shakes his head and turns back to the movie, if only to pretend that he’s watching it and not listening in on the hushed conversation that has moved into the kitchen. “Do you think we should pause the movie for him?”

“Nah.” She shakes her head, making her braid whip back and forth. “He left the couch, so he’s gotta deal with the consequences.”

Peter bites his lip to keep from laughing. He’s not sure if missing a movie Wade has probably seen at least twenty times by now would be considered a _consequence_.

Keeping his eyes on the TV, Peter focuses and tunes in on the whispers in the kitchen. He starts paying attention just in time to hear Domino mention that Weasel’s network caught wind of a big drug kerfuffle going down (and yes, Domino _did_ use the word kerfuffle, because apparently even she has to censor herself around Ellie). Now this piques Peter’s interest, but he’s not Spider-Man at the moment and has to resign himself to listening and not asking questions.

Even though the packet contains all the information Wade needs, Domino explains through whispers about a new drug that hasn’t hit the streets of New York yet but has started being manufactured right here in the city. There’s supposed to be a pick-up tonight by some distributors. The reason it’s not on the streets already is because the major crime families, Fisk included, don't want it around unless they’re the ones dealing it, and none of them are keen on starting to deal this particular drug.

Kudos to them, for once.

And that’s why Domino is here. The crime families aren’t happy, and they’re planning on hitting the manufacturer’s tonight to wipe the whole operation off the map. Peter knows how they work a lot better than he wishes he did, and that means there’s going to be a lot of bloodshed and probably a fire to hide the evidence.

Too bad for them, because someone blabbed to the wrong person. Weasel got his little paws on it, passed it along, and now Deadpool knows. Which, by the mere chance of Peter being here for dinner, means _Spider-Man_ knows too. Obviously, they’re going to have to do something about this.

Peter turns his head just enough and, surprisingly, catches Wade’s eye. The image inducer makes it really easy to read his facial expressions. An eyebrow goes up and he tilts his head just barely. A question. Peter nods as imperceptibly as he can.

“Well, that’s great and all, Dom.” Wade speaks loudly and slides the envelope back across the counter to Domino. “But I got the kid tonight, and I can’t just fudge off on a job.”

Ellie snorts again and leans over to whisper to Peter. “He thinks if he substitutes normal words that I won’t notice he’s swearing.”

“Doesn’t work, huh?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head again, but her eyes are locked on the TV screen. “I know exactly what he’s up to.”

A little bubble of concern manages to burp up into his chest. “But you’re not going to start swearing too, are you?”

“Nah.” Ellie sighs, like she’s actually put out by that, and sinks a little further into the couch cushions. “Emily doesn’t like it, and she thinks Wade’s a bad influence on me. If I swear, she’ll think he shouldn’t see me anymore, and I don’t want that, so I just shut my trap and play nice.”

Peter breathes out a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

After a beat of silence where it’s just the movie in the background and Domino and Wade whispering heatedly to each other in the kitchen, Ellie looks up at him. “Do _you_ swear?”

“Tempted, sometimes, but no.” He shakes his head too. “My aunt and uncle raised me not to.”

“Did they used to give you a time out?” She tilts her head, squinting at him like she’s trying to figure out what kind of punishments would get to him.

Peter grimaces at the memories. “Soap.” He makes a face and scrapes his teeth over his tongue. “They would take a bar of soap and rub it on my tongue to clean the bad words away. It tasted really bad, and I learned really quickly not to say them.”

“Ew!” Ellie’s whole face scrunches up.

“Yeah, kiddo. _Ew_.”

“Alright, fine!” Domino’s exasperated voice cuts through the sound from the movie, and both Ellie and Peter turn to look. She has her hands in the air for a moment before turning away to start undoing the laces of her boots. “Ellie, it’s going to be you and me tonight.”

Oh, so that’s what Wade was doing, convincing Domino to babysit. She was probably expecting to come along and help him kick butt.

“Alright, Petey. I’m gonna hafta cut the night short.” Wade picks up the envelope and starts for the hall. “Looks like something came up with work, and I’m going to have to run to the office. I’ll see you out in a minute.” He must be going off to change.

“Yeah, sure.” Peter stands up and stretches, biting back the urge to yawn. He looks down to find Ellie pouting and her arms protectively wrapped around Aurora, who appears to have woken up and is blinking up at him.

An idea occurs to Peter then and he smiles. “Would you mind watching Aurora for the night, Ellie? I think it’s still early enough for me to swing by my aunt’s place on the way home. She’s allergic to dogs, and you’d really be doing me a favour here.”

Ellie gasps and sits back, clapping excitedly. “Yes! I’ll take _really_ good care of her! I promise!”

“Okay, great! Just don’t forget to take her for a walk before you go to bed, and again in the morning.” There’s a little twinge of joy behind his ribs, just from making Ellie smile. “Otherwise, she’ll go somewhere in the apartment, and you don’t want to have to clean that up.” Peter leans down and cups his hands around his mouth as if he’s telling her a secret. “It’s _really_ gross.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Domino comes into the living room and drops onto the couch elegantly. She curls her feet up under her and looks _very_ comfortable where she is. “Before I got shipped off to Essex House, I lived with five dogs and just as many siblings. I’ll make sure nothing happens to either squirt.” And, to prove it, she holds her hand out for Aurora to sniff. Immediately, Aurora starts licking her fingers and making happy little barks.

Peter reaches down to pat Aurora on the head. “I think you prefer the company of the ladies over li’l ol’ me, huh?”

She ignores him almost entirely, and he sighs, knowing when he’s beat. He heads over to the door to start pulling on his coat and shoes. As he’s standing back up from tying the laces, Wade comes back down the hall in regular clothing. It throws Peter a little bit, because he had been fully expecting the Deadpool costume with assorted weaponry.

“Bye, sweetheart!” Wade blows Ellie a kiss from the door. “You be good for Auntie Dom, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Bedtime is nine o’clock because it’s a school night, but she can have all the sugar she wants and—”

Domino shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes. Ellie must be used to it because she blows a kiss right back. “Bye, Daddy! Kick butt and take care of you-know-who if he shows up. Remind him he’s supposed to come and see me!”

“I will, pumpkin!” Wade double hands it with blowing even more kisses. “Thanks a million, Dom! I really appreciate it! Don’t you let anything happen to her or I’ll—”

“C’mon, _Willy_.” Peter opens the door and starts ushering him out into the hall. He waves one last goodbye before shutting it behind them. “Where’s the suit, and why did you talk about an office? Ellie knows I know you’re Deadpool.”

Wade grabs his wrist, and Peter feels leather in the touch under the buzz of the image inducer. “I told _Dom_ that you think I work some lame ass office job, and that you don’t know who I am.” He heads for the stairwell next to the elevator and pulls Peter along with him. “And I have to hide the costume. Can’t have my neighbours or anyone in the area knowing that I live here. Not when this is where I bring Ellie.”

Oh, okay. Yeah, that makes sense. Peter kicks himself mentally, and briefly, for not having come to that conclusion himself. Usually he’s much quicker on the uptake.

They take the stairs up to the roof quickly. There, Wade turns off the image inducer and it shimmers away into nothingness, revealing the red and black leather of his suit. He puts his hands on his hips and faces Peter. “So, I’m guessing you heard everything, huh?”

“Of course I did.” Peter fumbles to open the hidden inside pocket of his coat. He pulls the mask on and starts getting undressed. “And of course I’m coming.”

“Never doubted you would.” Wade laughs and waits, pointedly _not_ looking away as Peter all but gives him an actual strip-show.

Peter kicks out of his shoes again and toes off his socks. His high-collared sweater and jacket follow, with his jeans being the last to come off. He has to root through his coat again to find his gloves and fidgets a bit to get them on underneath his webshooter bracelets. Finally, he’s ready. No, wait. He can’t just leave his clothes in a pile here.

“Even Sailor Moon’s transformation sequence takes less time than you, Spidey.” Wade sighs and fakes counting the time on his watch. “I appreciate the show, but you really gotta learn to speed this up.”

Peter grumbles under his breath as he bundles his clothes together and finds the darkest corner of the roof to web them for safety. That’s as good as it’s going to get. He does a few upper body stretches on his way back to Wade.

“So, where are we going?”

“The docks, naturally. Because if there’s drug nonsense happening, it’s _always_ down by the docks.” Wade sweeps his hand in the approximate direction they should head in. “It’s almost like we’re in a poorly written fanfic by someone who only learned things about New York from movies and other fanfic. But that would be _insane_ , wouldn’t it?”

Well used to Wade’s tangents about fanfic or comics and acting like they’re characters in something for the entertainment of people beyond the ‘fourth wall’, Peter elects to ignore the comment and starts walking towards the edge of the roof. “Alright. Do you want to piggyback? Tarzan and Jane-ing it is really only good for short distances, but not from here to the docks.”

“Piggyback is _always_ better.” Wade practically skips across to him, fitting the hot line of his body against Peter’s back. His arms lock around his shoulders. “Any excuse to ride dat a–”

Peter doesn’t let him finish. The rest of Wade’s word turns into a scream as he steps off the roof and lets them drop. He snaps out a web, and they take off swinging. Wade’s legs lock around his hips, and he holds on for dear life as they cross the city. The adrenaline climbs with every drop, and Peter can’t help a whoop or two as he slingshots them around a tall building to turn towards the docks.

They land on the first warehouse they come to, if only because Wade’s arms are starting to tremble. It’s better to land than risk him falling off mid-swing. Unfortunately, it means they need to basically parkour the rest of the way to their destination. Which, as it turns out, Wade did _not_ bring the packet of information that told them which one.

“So, how are we supposed to know where, or who, or _what_ —”

Wade rolls his eyes so hard that it’s a full body gesture, and then promptly starts reciting the information from memory. Probably verbatim, if Peter had the packet to confirm.

He’s surprised, but also really impressed. “You memorized it all in that little time you had to look at it?”

“Just another trick of the trade, Spidey.” Wade tucks his thumbs under the straps of his katanas, treating it like suspenders as he rocks back and forth on his heels, chest puffed out. “Sometimes you only get to hear the information once, and you’ve gotta remember it. Same with reading.”

“That’s—” Peter brushes a hand over one of Wade’s arms. “That’s really amazing, Wade.” He tilts his head in what he hopes comes across as a smile. “Lead the way, okay? You’re in charge of this mission.”

Wade stills slightly before darting forward to hug Peter tightly. “I’m in _charge_!” He squeals, lifting Peter off his feet and spinning them in a circle. “Does that mean I can choose the team outfit? Because I have this _slinky_ little number at home that would make your legs look _amazing_ and—”

Peter clears his throat loudly and he gets dropped like a hot potato. “The mission, Wade?”

“Right! This way!” He pivots on his heel and sprints off across the roof, leaping to the next building with ease. Peter is hot on his heels, adding flips to his jumps just to make it fun.

On one of the buildings, Wade drops to his belly and commando crawls to the edge of the roof to peek over it. Peter crawls as well, supported on his fingertips and toes until he can stretch out on his stomach right next to him. To his surprise, Wade pulls a rifle scope from one of his pouches and uses it to look across a loading zone at one of the few buildings with lights still on at this time of the evening.

After scanning the building from end to end, Wade holds the scope out to him. “That’s our place.”

It takes a little searching to find a window with anything actually happening, but that looks like a meth lab if Peter’s ever seen one. People in goggles are hunched over tables filled with enough paraphernalia to outfit an entire high school science lab, measuring and mixing and filling vials from containers of a bright orange liquid. It’s certainly not something Peter would ever be comfortable injecting into his body.

“Are we sure that the raid is happening tonight?” He passes the scope back and stretches out a little further to check the loading dock and the wide roads between buildings that lead up to it.

“Weasel’s sources sure seem to think so.” Wade shrugs and tucks the scope away with a heavy sigh. “It’s time for my least favourite part of the game.”

The waiting. It’s definitely not one of Peter’s favourite parts either. He’d rather be swinging around the city looking for trouble instead of waiting around for trouble to find him. And the worst thing is that they have to do it mostly in silence. They’ve learned from one mistake too many that if they talk, they tend to get wrapped up in their conversation and focus too much on one another, which means they end up missing the start of the action more often than not.

Today is the kind of action they definitely don’t want to risk missing. If any of the crime families are working together, that spells trouble for the people in that building. It means lives are going to be lost, and Peter doesn’t need the added guilt. Wade also knows how much it upsets him when people die, and he does his best to avoid it at all costs too. He can be unnervingly sweet and thoughtful at times—something SHIELD’s files on him don’t mention.

Peter got a good look at those files (and so did every other Super in New York) when Wade first came to town and made it obvious that he was setting down roots here. SHIELD wanted to make sure that everyone knew who and what they were dealing with. He feels bad that he gave Wade a hard time in the beginning, but Peter got drawn in by his personality and his sincerity, and now he’s one of the few who are lucky enough to call Wade a friend.

It’s also become painfully obvious that no one else is actually taking the time to get to know him beyond the files, even after all the years that he’s been calling New York his home base.

A few hours pass with the odd conversation here or there. They really only talk about what their course of action will be if (or when) the families show up to handle the drug manufacturers cooking in their territories. After all this time, they have a routine. Wade goes low as a distraction and Peter hits from above, aiming to incapacitate as many people as he can by webbing away weapons and pinning people before things can really hit the fan.

“I still think we should go in _now_.” Wade grumbles right into the fist his chin is propped on. “We should tie up all the cooks and chemists and call the cops. Then, when the others arrive, we take ‘em out too. By that point, the cops are on scene to take everyone in.”

Peter cocks his head to the side, listening to the crunch of gravel under several sets of tires. “I like your plan, ‘Pool, I really do, but there’s one problem.”

“Hit me baby one more time.”

“They’re here.” Peter jumps to his feet before he’s even done talking, watching as a handful of cars come around the corner to park haphazardly in the middle of the loading dock.

Wade curses and scrambles up. They watch from where they are, waiting for everyone to unload from their cars with guns of various sizes in hand. The mobsters aren’t much for chatting and, for being from different crime families, go into the building together without any arguing. Wade barely waits for the last one to cross the threshold before he’s vaulting over the edge of the building because he’s an idiot like that. Peter leans over and launches a web at his back, catching him to slow his fall and give Wade a more gradual descent to the ground.

He stays where he is, keeping an eye on Wade and counting down from twenty inside his head. Wade jogs across the lot and right through the open door that the mobsters used. At the count of twenty, Peter takes a running leap to cross most of the distance between the buildings; webbing himself the rest of the way and scrambling up the wall. He hunts around for a skylight or roof access that he can use.

The bullets start flying before he’s even inside. Peter curses in ice cream flavours as he leaps down the stairwell and sprints through halls until he can get to the main warehouse. Apparently, he entered through the office portion of the building, and that was _not the plan_. There’s shouts and screams echoing through the building, and it takes Peter too long to get to the catwalks above the huge storage room where the majority of the lab is housed.

He looks down over the edge, eyeing up the area below before using a bit of web to fix a camera to the catwalk. It’s on an automatic timer to snap a picture every thirty seconds. Most of them won’t be good, but since he knows where it’s aiming, Peter can arrange to be in frame and get a few good shots to sell to Jameson tomorrow.

Without another thought, he leaps over the railing and drops down into the fight. By the time he gets there, Wade is already taking people out with rubber bullets from the gun he has in one hand, and swinging his sword casually with the other. It moves like a part of his body, and Peter is momentarily transfixed. That’s a moment too long, and his spidey-sense pulses hard enough to make his vision swim. His body reacts on instinct, and he drops to avoid a swift punch to the back of his head.

“Missed me!” He kicks backwards and sends the guy flying into a stack of boxes lining one of the walls. “I’d say ‘ _now you gotta kiss me_ ’, but Deadpool over there gets _really_ jealous, and I’d rather avoid the bloodshed tonight if I can.”

After that, there’s no real time to _think_. Everything is reactions and sharp quips that Wade rapid-fires right back at him, much to the annoyance of literally everyone else. But, really, what were they expecting? The mobsters showed up in actual suits with stupid hats and velour tracksuits that look _so_ out of place. It’s so cliché that it’s literally impossible _not_ to make fun of them even just a little bit.

Things are going great until Peter messes up. God, he messes up _so bad_ , because Wade laughs about something and shouts “ _Say hello to my little friend_!”, and Peter, like an idiot, looks. He looks and he laughs because Wade is literally making a finger gun at people with one hand and shooting them in the leg or arm with the actual gun in his other, making them drop their weapons or collapse in pain.

His laugh turns into a hiss as a knife slips into his side amidst the screaming of his spidey-senses. Peter’s body jerks back out of reflex, so the stab isn’t as deep as it could have been. There’s still the bite of the blade in his side, and it’s the kind of injury that Peter needs to hide before Wade—

“ _Webs_!”

Crap.

Deadpool plows through the remaining people among sprays of blood as he draws his katanas again. The blades slice neatly across arms and legs, never fully dismembering any limbs but definitely incapacitating people as he crosses the warehouse to Peter’s side.

“I’m fine!” Peter grips the hand holding the knife and yanks it out of his side. He turns and punches the guy _hard_ , dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

The burn in his side is familiar and unwelcome. Peter grimaces and claps a hand over the wound. “It’s okay, ‘Pool. Don’t kill anyone.”

But still, Wade gets to his side in record time and flutters around him with worry. Peter slaps on a pained smile, hoping it comes across despite how his mask is less emotive than Wade’s. He covers the wound with webbing and gives a double thumbs up.

“See? Fine. C’mon, let’s finish this up and call the cops.”

Wade still shoots the guy who stabbed him. A rubber bullet right to the dick. If the guy wasn’t already unconscious, he probably would be now. Poor guy.

Since moving is really not a smart option because that would pull at the wound, Peter plants his feet and throws web volleys left, right, and center. His main goal is to pin down anyone who can still move, shifting just enough to keep out of the line of fire. Wade doesn’t leave his side, fluidly ducking around Peter’s arms like they share one mind. He keeps anyone from getting close to them, and he does it all without saying a word. Which means he’s _mad_.

The moment the last guy is webbed to the wall, Wade has a junky flip phone out, and he’s calling the cops. Peter keeps a hand clamped to his side, but he still shoots a web up to propel himself back onto the catwalk. With a little bit of super strength, he rips the webbing around his camera apart and tucks it away again. Below, Wade is rattling off the information of what happened and where to find everyone. He hangs up, and places another call. For this one, he gives an address and hangs up immediately.

Peter lowers himself back down to where Wade is waiting, releasing the webbing slowly so he doesn’t jerk to a stop or put additional strain on his side. His feet barely touch the ground before he finds himself being swung up into Wade’s arms and rushed from the building. The direction Wade takes aims them back towards the main road, which is different. Normally, they stake out and find a place to wait for the police to get on the scene.

He crosses his arms and levels Wade with a frown, though the power of it is lessened by his mask (and being carried like a princess). “This really isn’t necessary, ‘Pool.”

“You’ve been _stabbed_.” There’s steel in Wade’s voice as he jogs. It’s the kind of tone that leaves no room for argument—if Peter were a normal person.

He snorts and looks away. “ _Barely_.”

“Tell that to the blood coming through your fucking webbing.” The hands holding Peter to Wade’s chest tighten their grip a little more. He’s practically hissing every word, clearly unhappy. “We’re going home, and you’re going to let me take care of it.”

There’s a small part of him that wants to keep arguing. Peter could easily overpower Wade and web home to take care of it himself, but… honestly, he doesn’t want to. It’s nice, sometimes, to let someone else have the reins.

So, with that in mind, Peter sighs and drops his head on Wade’s shoulder. “Okay, fine.”

Wade comes to a sudden stop, though miraculously doesn’t jostle Peter too much in the process. The eyes of his mask are wide when he looks at him. “Really? No arguing? You’re actually going to let me take care of you?”

“Yeah.” Peter closes his eyes and relaxes into Wade’s chest, choosing not to fight it anymore. Just this once. “I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep anyway. But if it’ll make you feel better, go ahead.”

“Oh.” Wade’s voice goes quiet and soft, and his grip tightens just a little more. “Thanks, Spidey.”

They both stay quiet as Wade keeps to the spaces between buildings to get to the main road. Dopinder’s cab is waiting for them, and Peter grimaces at the jolt to his side as he’s loaded into the back seat. Wade clambers in after him, and Dopinder starts driving without another word. He keeps glancing through the mirror, but he knows better than to ask questions when Spider-Man is hurt. It usually results in Wade snapping at him, and Dopinder nearly peeing his pants.

Peter leans his head against the window and closes his eyes, only to open them again when he feels Wade strap something around his wrist. He looks down to find an image inducer resting snuggly against one of his webshooters.

“You have two image inducers?” Peter blinks, unsure if he’s actually seeing what he’s seeing. “Why do you have _two_?”

“In case I break one. _Duh_.” Wade skips over the fact that he had to _steal_ two and activates it. [The hand he’s holding is suddenly black and poking out the end of the sleeve of a purple blazer](https://2.bp.blogspot.com/pc7S_cqIAtmQ9W-YcuqXtAObb_VMsqMF-5Snp476uZksEKZ8D_oACXuZWUaC6etlN69WkaYWuQA=s1600).

Peter fights back the urge to yawn. “Who do I look like?”

“Tony Stark.”

He rocks his head to the side to fix Wade with a stare and waits for the real answer.

“You’re no fun.” Wade sighs and drops Peter’s hand. “I set that one to random. You look like any ol’ Joe Schmo. Right, Dopinder?”

“You could be anyone, Mr. Spider-Man.” Dopinder nods in agreement.

It doesn’t really matter and Peter closes his eyes again. “Okay.” He drops his head back against the glass and wishes he could feel how cool it must be.

“Spidey?” There’s an edge of worry to Wade’s voice, and the seat creaks as he scoots closer. “Baby boy, did you lose too much blood? Is it dangerous for me to let you fall asleep right now?”

“Nah.” This time, Peter does yawn. His hand twitches up in an attempt to cover it, but it doesn’t get close enough, and he lets it drop again. “Just tired.” And a little bit hungry. His body just wants to shut down and make him sleep so it can focus all his energy on repairing the wound.

When they get back to Wade’s apartment, he helps him out of the car. His own image inducer is already activated, and he keeps Peter’s arm on his good side around his shoulder as he almost carries him up into the building. The doorman gives them a tight, confused smile as he gets up to open the doors for them, and Wade word-vomits all over the place about drunk friends, and people not knowing their own limits on a _weekday_ of all things. Peter fakes a drunken smile and a hiccup, adding a little more stumble to his feet as Wade maneuvers them towards the elevator.

Thankfully, Ellie has long since been put to bed by the time they get into the apartment properly. Aurora is nowhere in sight and Peter figures she’s probably sleeping in Ellie’s bed. It seems like something the kid would want. Domino is stretched out on the couch, her head on the armrest that allows her to keep an eye on the door. She has a book in hand, but there’s a movie playing quietly on the TV.

Domino glances up with a frown. “Who’s that?” She jumps up when Wade’s answer is to pull Peter’s image inducer off and toss it onto the counter. “Oh damn!”

“Hi.” Peter waves limply. “Long time no see.”

She nods at him and drops her book on the couch as she comes forward. “What do you need? Should I help?”

“Nah, I’ve got this.” Wade stoops to get a hand under Peter’s knees again and lifts him like a blushing bride, which is entirely unnecessary, and Peter definitely doesn’t like it (shut up). “Just keep an eye on the squirt, and don’t let her into my room.”

Peter waves again as Wade strides off down the hall, going sideways through the doorway into the master bedroom to avoid knocking any body parts into the frame. Wade slowly nudges the door shut behind them, leaving it mostly closed so he doesn’t make too much noise. There’s an attached bathroom with just a sink and a toilet, and Peter finds himself being propped up on the counter with his back against the mirror.

“Okay, Spidey.” Wade steps away and looks him over, critically eyeing the red webbing on his side. The expression the image inducer gives him is almost pained. “I really wish I was saying this under different circumstances, but it’s time to strip.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter grumbles and starts peeling his gloves off. He drops them into the sink next to him and follows them up with his mask, his webshooters, and the top half of his suit.

The wound in his side stings, and he bites back a hiss. It’s not the worst he’s ever had, but it’s still—quite literally—a thorn in his side. There’s a new gush of blood that comes with the movement, and Wade makes an aggravated noise at it. He shakes his head and crouches to start rooting around under the sink. After a moment, he surfaces with a fairly high end first-aid kit.

At the look Peter gives it, Wade rolls his eyes. “It’s like a trope in our fics that you’re surprised I have one of these, and I always brush it off. So can we just skip all that bullshit and get right to the point where I stop you from bleeding?” He pops the kit open and starts pulling out the things he’s going to need. “It’s pretty obvious that I keep this shit around for you, not me.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet.” Pete reaches out to poke him in the cheek, just because he can. It looks like he’s poking soft skin, but it’s leather under his finger tip. Part of him is really starting to hate that image inducer, if only because it would’ve been kind of nice to touch the _real_ Wade instead of—Yeah, let’s stop that thought right there.

Wade snorts and gives him a strained smile. “It’s about fucking time you noticed. Now, put that arm up and let me get at the stupid scratch that chucklefuck gave you.”

Peter rolls his eyes and sits back again. Over the years, he’s ripped his costume in some embarrassing ways, and he’s long since gotten over any self-consciousness about his body being on display. That said, he still feels a bit of a flush warm his face as Wade fusses over him. He’s still wearing his gloves, but his touches are soft and never sweep over more of his skin than is necessary, moving Peter around as needed.

He ends up spending most of the time with his arm folded up and over his head to keep his side bared. Wade tuts and mutters to himself as he goes about cleaning the wound, sterilizing a needle, and stitching the whole thing closed. Last, but certainly not least, he slaps the biggest band-aid in the world on top of it.

By the time he’s done, Peter is almost out for the count. Without the adrenaline of a fight, his body wants to make him _sleep,_ and he’s willing to give into it. He flops forward in Wade’s arms when he’s lifted up again, cradled against his chest with more care than he probably deserves. Peter mumbles nonsense sounds as he’s tucked into a bed that has no right being as big and comfy as it is.

He can’t remember the last time he was on such a soft mattress. His bed back home might as well be the floor. It’s hard and lumpy, and there’s a magical spring that pokes into him in a different spot every single time he lies down. Peter’s used to it, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

There’s a bump of masked lips against his forehead, and Peter opens his eyes just enough to see Wade softly smiling down at him. “See you in the morning, Petey.”

Maybe he manages to mumble a ‘goodnight’ in return, but Peter doesn’t remember.


	5. Thursday

It’s not often that Peter wakes up in a place that isn’t his own anymore. He’s long past the times when he used to pass out wherever he managed to fall after getting his butt handed to him. It’s been _at least_ ten years since the last time that happened. Patrols are old hat to a grizzled superhero veteran like himself, and yes, he’s boasting.

Today, however, he wakes up in a bed that isn’t his own. It doesn’t feel like his bed, it doesn’t smell like his bed, and he’s disoriented enough that he almost starts climbing the wall to find a safe corner to hunker down in while he figures things out. But then a loud laugh rumbles through the closed door, and it’s a laugh Peter knows well.

The memories of last night come flooding back, and he sinks into the bed again with a sigh. He looks around and spots the other half of his costume folded neatly on the bedside table next to him. There’s a little bit of an ache in his side when he sits up, but the bandage is still covering the wound, and he can’t get a good look at it yet.

To his surprise, the rip in his shirt has been neatly repaired. Heck, he can barely even find where it was sliced through. Peter thumbs over the precise stitches and smiles, knowing exactly who fixed this for him. It’s been a long time since someone took such good care of him. If Wade isn’t careful, Peter might get used to it.

During his trip to the bathroom, Peter peels off the bandage and takes a look at the wound. It’s almost healed up, and he takes a few minutes to pick the stitches out. The whole thing should be just fine by tonight as long as he gets enough food in him today. Judging by the smell of sizzling bacon, he’s pretty sure Wade is going to do his best to achieve that.

Peter’s stomach gives a gurgling whine, signaling that he’s basically bordering on _ravenous_ now, and he can’t stay in the bathroom forever. Since there’s more than one voice in the other room, all three of which Peter recognizes, he pulls his mask back on and slowly opens the door into the hall. No one is visible, so he climbs up to ease down the hall along the ceiling. It’s ten-feet up, so he feels pretty confident in being able to sneak up on everyone in the kitchen.

When he peeks around the corner to get an eye on the kitchen, Peter notes that Domino is sitting at the island with coffee and a newspaper. Ellie is sitting on the floor with her back against the cupboards, shoveling cereal into her mouth and watching Aurora noisily devour kibble from her bowl on the ground. Wade still has the image inducer on, and he’s wearing a silky looking nightshirt that goes down to his knees. It has a matching cap, the bobble at the end swinging back and forth as he hums in front of the stove, swaying while he manages three different pans of various foods.

“Why can’t _I_ have any bacon for breakfast?” Ellie looks up, her words muffled by the cereal and spoon in her mouth.

“Because it’s not ready yet, princess.” Wade bends down and taps her on the nose. “I’ll save you some, but it’s not going to be ready before you go to school.” At that, he checks the clock on the stove. “Yeah, you need to finish up quickly. The bus is going to be here soon.”

Domino taps the Hello Kitty backpack sitting on the counter next to her. “I already packed your lunch for you, munchkin. And I took out all the dog toys because you’re not going to need those.” She lowers her paper to give Ellie a look. “You do know that the dog isn’t going with you, right?”

Ellie abandons her bowl of cereal on the floor and jumps up. “But Petey said that _I’m_ the one who’s supposed to be watching her!”

“And you’re passing the baton to me until you’re done with school and Petey is finished work.” Wade pats her on the head with one hand while focusing on scrambling eggs with the other. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s not fair.” Ellie stomps her foot and slaps Wade’s hand away. “You’re cooking too much for just you and Dom, and I’m not getting _any_ of it.”

Peter decides now is as good a time as any to make his entrance, and he crawls out from around the corner to squat upside down on his haunches. “Sorry, I think that might have something to do with me.”

With a gasp, Ellie spins around. “ _Spider-Man_!”

“Hey.” He wiggles his fingers in a little wave. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She stares at him for a few moments in utter shock before giving herself a shake. Peter smiles behind his mask as she scrambles for her bag, dragging it off the counter to dig through it. When Ellie surfaces again, it’s with a polaroid camera. “Spider-Man! Spider-Man!” She shakes it at him. “Petey said you would take a picture with me!”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Peter cocks his head to the side. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t make a liar out of him.” He gestures for her to come closer. “And you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“The _cutest_ ,” Wade emphasizes with a fond sigh.

Ellie shoves the camera into Domino’s hands and runs over to where Peter is still standing on the ceiling. “Take a picture of us! Carlos is going to _crap his pants_.”

“That’s the reaction I always aspire for.” Peter laughs and stands up to reach down and grab her under the arms. He lifts her up easily and flips her upside down too, one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist to hold her in place. “How’s this?”

A squeal of laughter rings through the apartment, and Ellie lets her arms dangle. “This is the _best_! Take a picture, take a picture!”

Domino looks amused as she raises the camera. Once the little sheet has popped out the bottom, Peter lets go of the ceiling. He flips in mid air and lands on the balls of his feet easily, Ellie tucked protectively to his chest. She’s open mouthed and flushed when he sets her on her feet, her eyes wide and shining with delight.

“That was _awesome_!”

“It sure was.” He pats her on the top of her head. “It’s nice to finally meet you too. Your dad has told me nothing but good things about you.”

Ellie cocks her head slightly, eyes narrowing like she doesn’t believe him. But she brightens again a moment later with a beaming smile. “Thanks for taking care of him all the time.”

“I think he might take care of me a little more.” To make his point, Peter lifts the side of his shirt and points at the pink line on his side. “He did a really good job last night.”

“ _And_ I’m making him a big hearty breakfast worthy of _champions_.” Wade puffs up proudly and thumps his chest with the hand holding a spatula. “I gotta help Spidey heal up all the sh–” He stops short. “Shhh…”

Peter looks at him, and Ellie tugs at his hand, pulling him down until she can whisper in his ear. “He’s trying to think of a non-swear that starts with ‘sh’ so he doesn’t swear in front of me.” She smiles at Wade, and there’s a fondness there that makes Peter’s heart do a funny little dance.

Domino clears her throat and stands up from her stool at the island. “Alright, little lady. The bus is going to be here soon.” She holds the picture out to Ellie. “C’mon. I’ll walk you down.”

Wade looks at her sharply, frowning. “You’re not going to stick around for breakfast, Dom?” He gestures back at the stove. “I made that fancy omelette crap you love.”

“Oh, you bet your a–” She stops and glances down at Ellie before back to Wade. “Bet your _butt_ that I’ll be right back up here.”

Ellie mopes a little as she gets her shoes and coat on, but the wave she gives Spider-Man is enthusiastic. She kisses Wade on the cheek, gives a half dozen pets and several kisses to the top of Aurora’s head, and shouts her goodbyes as she’s ushered out into the hall. Wade catches Aurora before she can get out after them. He coos sweet nothings and nuzzles his nose into the space behind her ears as he sways in place.

Peter snorts a laugh and pulls his mask off. “I never imagined you were the nightshirt kind of guy.” He comes forward to greet Aurora with a scratch behind the ear. “Always figured you probably slept in your underwear. Or naked.”

“Ooo, Petey.” Wade’s eyebrows go up, and he grins slyly as he leans in. “You imagine me naked?”

“I plead the fifth.” He turns away, hoping that he doesn’t blush. And also because he actually _hasn’t_ thought about Wade naked, but now the thought is in his head and—and Wade is a _big guy_ in every aspect. Does that mean he’s _also_ big in _other_ areas?

Peter shakes his head before a mental image can take root.

Thankfully, his phone beeps in his pocket and saves him. Peter fishes it out from the little sewn-in pocket by his hip. A reminder is flashing across the screen and he groans. “Crap. I forgot Aura has a grooming appointment today.” And he doesn’t have the time to drop her off unless he wants to skip the amazing breakfast currently sizzling on the stovetop.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Wade shrugs and flaps a hand at him. “Just forward me the deets, and I’ll make sure the fluffball gets there in time.” He grins, wide and wicked. “And I even promise that I won’t talk the groomer into dyeing her like a Pikachu.”

“Don’t you _dare_.” Peter shakes his phone at him, before sighing and actually forwarding the information. “Seriously, MJ will _kill_ me. And I think the groomer already knows what she wants. Everything was set up before MJ dropped her off with me.”

Wade’s bottom lip sticks out almost in a pout. “Augh, ex-wives take all the fun out of _everything_.” He pauses and briefly looks thoughtful. “Except hate-sex. That’s fun for everyone.”

Peter just _barely_ refrains from rolling his eyes.

He tucks his phone away and takes Aurora from Wade so he can get back to cooking. She’s wriggling in his grip as he takes her, lifting her to face height so he gets a few licks to the cheek. “Hey, Aura. Thanks for taking care of Ellie last night. You did a great job.”

Wade watches him for a moment before reaching out to touch his hip lightly, just below the wound from last night. “How’s your side? It looked like it’s healing well.”

“It’s doing great.” Peter bends over to put Aurora down and smiles at Wade when he stands up. “Thanks for the help last night, and for letting me sleep it off here.” And then it hits him. “Wait a minute. Where did _you_ sleep?” Because Domino looked like she’d spent the night, and it must’ve been on the couch.

“Uh, in my bed?” Wade raises an eyebrow, head tilted with amusement. “It’s a _King_ , Petey. You were out cold on one side, I built the great pillow wall of China down the middle, and I promise—” At this, he puts a hand over his heart and holds up three fingers. “—that I kept to my side. Swearsies!”

“It’s fine, Wade.” Peter pulls Wade’s hand away from his heart and gives it a squeeze. “I trust you.”

Even though they’ve been patrolling for literal _years_ , Wade still looks shell-shocked by that every single time it’s said. He stares at Peter with his mouth open and eyes searching, eyebrows together in something almost like a frown. It looks really ridiculous with the night cap he’s wearing, but it also makes Peter’s heart take a rollercoaster ride full of loop-de-loops through his chest.

He licks his lips and chances a glance towards the stove. “I think your eggs are burning.”

Wade’s head whips around. “Not my _huevos_!” He gasps and rushes over to them, bemoaning his overcooked eggs.

Peter breathes a quiet sigh of relief and wills his heart to _calm down_. Being able to see Wade’s eyes is really doing weird things to him.

“Since when can you cook?” Before this week, Peter could probably count on one hand the number of times he’s seen or heard of Wade actually cooking a meal.

“Since always.” He shrugs and gives the pan a shake. “Momma always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Hasn’t worked for me yet with take-out, but maybe some of my own cuisine will do the job.”

Huh? Oh. _Oh_. It clicks a moment later, and Peter ducks his head. Instead of answering, he decides to make himself useful and picks up Ellie’s abandoned cereal bowl as Aurora starts sniffing around it. She whines as he dumps it down the sink, straining out the remaining Captain Crunch and tossing them into the garbage.

Before Domino comes back, Peter makes sure to put his mask on again, though this time he leaves it rolled up to the bridge of his nose. He gets a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, and hashbrowns. Wade even toasts up almost a whole loaf of bread and has everything laid out on the island for Domino when she comes in the door.

Breakfast is a quick affair because Peter basically has to head out _immediately_. To his surprise (and delight), Wade gifts him a bagged lunch to go. Three sandwiches, an apple, a banana, two tubes of go-gurt, and a juice box. Domino watches them from over the edge of her coffee mug while Wade explains what’s in the bag, and then he actually _blushes_ when Peter squeezes his arm in thanks.

Peter doesn’t dare even _consider_ what Domino might be thinking of all this.

With very little fanfare, because he’s worried that someone will start asking pointed questions that he’s not ready to answer, Peter sneaks out through the window in the bathroom because it faces the alley. He heads back up to the roof to find his clothing from yesterday and makes himself something like a web backpack to take it all back home with his lunch.

As much as his shower sucks (nine times out of ten, it’s going to be cold even with the tap cranked fully to hot), it does wonders at keeping his time in the bathroom as short as possible. Peter showers, folds a better smelling and less wrinkly set of clothing into an actual backpack with the lunch Wade made him, and crawls out his bedroom window so he can swing his way to work.

Unfortunately, he’s still five minutes late and has to suffer through a lecture from Jameson. Peter avoids getting fired (which is a weekly occurrence at this point, and he doesn’t worry about it too much) by selling a few pictures from last night. According to Jameson, most of them are crap, but he does buy a couple so he can slander Spider-Man and Deadpool in the late issue for today. Even though they’re clearly fighting mobsters in a _drug lab_ , Peter doesn’t try and argue. The irony of taking Jameson’s money for them more than makes up for it.

The day passes quickly with editing pictures, being a general office go-fer, and eating the best lunch he’s ever brought to work.

To no one’s surprise, and especially not Peter’s, Dopinder is waiting outside the Bugle when he walks out of the building in the mid afternoon. Peter just rolls his eyes and gets in. “How long have you been waiting for me?”

Dopinder looks up from the book he was reading. “The hot dog cart at the corner is most satisfying for a lunch. Have you had it often?”

“More times than you or I can count.” Peter laughs and shakes his head. “He seriously had you stationed out here since _lunch time_?” That was three hours ago. “If this becomes a habit of his, I’ll give you my phone number so you can text me, and I’ll let you know when I’m off work.”

“That would be most appreciated, thank you.” Dopinder gives him a blinding smile. “Though I do not mind doing this for Mr. Pool. He is most generous with his money.” And that explains why Dopinder continues to do anything and everything that Wade asks of him.

On the drive back up town, Peter looks out the window and wonders what Wade and Ellie have in store for him today. And what about next week? Wade only gets Ellie until Monday morning, and Peter only has Aurora until—God, he doesn’t even know when Mary Jane is going to come back for her. It was only supposed to be for a week. Once Ellie and Aurora are gone, are they going to spend as much time outside of the suits as they are now?

Is it weird that Peter feels a little sad about it? Sure, he’ll probably see Ellie again, and it’ll be a lot sooner than he’ll ever see Aurora. She’s going to California with Mary Jane, and Peter—he’s actually going to miss the little furball. She’s a sweet dog, and having her has really brought a little light into his life. It’s definitely because of her that he’s gotten closer to Wade over the last week, and that—that’s really nice. Nicer than he ever thought it would be.

When they get to the apartment building, taking _forever_ to get there because rush hour traffic is an all-day kind of thing in New York, Peter high-fives Dopinder goodbye and gets out of the taxi. It speeds off almost right away, but Peter doesn’t get two steps before a small body is crashing into his legs amidst excited barking.

“Well, hello to you too, Ellie.” Peter laughs and looks down at where she has her arms around his hips and her face pressed into his stomach. “Did you have a good day?”

She looks up at him with a shining smile and starts waving the picture from this morning up at him. “Look! Look!”

Peter leans down to pretend to squint at it, as if he’s only just seeing it for the first time. “Oh, wow! He really did show up, huh? I wasn’t sure if he would after that fight last night.”

“Dad brought him home to rec-re-cup—get better!” Ellie bounces back on her feet, eyeing her picture with nothing short of awe. “Carlos was _so mad_ because he never actually met Spidey, and all he has is a dumb autograph. Now I’ve got _both_!”

That’s clear favouritism and Peter is going to have to be careful about that. “Don’t show that picture off to too many people. You don’t want someone thinking Spidey plays favourites and come after you. Your dad would really hate that.” He reaches down to ruffle her hair, currently worn in two loose pigtails hanging over her shoulders. “But Wade and Spidey are pretty close, right? You’ll probably see Spidey more than anyone else soon.”

For some reason, that makes Ellie pause. She looks up at him with those calculating eyes of hers. After a moment, she grabs his hand and drags him over to where Wade is sitting on the steps of the apartment building. Aurora is in his lap and getting the scratches of a lifetime. Her fur is a shimmering white and trimmed from her grooming appointment today, and there’s a big purple bow tied to her collar.

Wade stands up as they get close, tucking Aurora under one arm instead of putting her down like any normal person would. The whole image is hilarious, and Peter has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Aurora is a teeny tiny ball of fur, held by a muscled tower of a man in a leather jacket, tight shirt (seriously, Peter could count his abs right now), and tight jeans and—and Peter might be staring a little. He really should not be staring.

“Dad!” Ellie stomps over to him and points up at Peter. “Petey said that you and Spidey are _pretty close_ , but _you_ said you were just friends! You _promised_ me that you would tell me if anything happened between you guys.” She crosses her arms and glares up at him. “What’s the _truth_?”

For a moment, Wade stares down at her with wide eyes. He flushes slightly, glancing up at Peter briefly before turning away. Peter looks up at the building sharply as Wade turns to bend over and put Aurora on the ground. There’s no way he’s going to risk accidentally getting caught out staring at Wade’s butt. Even if it _is_ a very nice butt. The Deadpool costume has definitely confirmed that. Not that Peter has ever looked. Nope. Definitely not.

“You want the truth?” Wade turns to Ellie, corner of his mouth sneaking up while he tries not to smile. “You can’t _handle_ the truth!” He drops the leash into her hands and turns his nose up.

“Wade!” Ellie stomps her foot again and reaches out to push him, though it doesn’t even make him rock in place. “You tell me right now if you’ve wooed Spidey, or I’m gonna sic She-Ra on you!”

Wade puts his hands on his hips and looks down at her. “That’s _rude_.”

Ellie doesn’t back down, though. She mirrors him, and they stare at each other while Peter crouches to give hello pats to Aurora. He snaps a picture of her fully groomed and looking pretty, and texts that off to Mary Jane since he’s been slacking on sending her pictures this week. She didn’t particularly ask for them, but he figured that’s something he should probably be doing.

Eventually, Wade gives an explosive sigh that has his whole body slumping down to Ellie’s height. “Fine, fine. You’ve dragged it out of me.” He leans in to whisper in her ear, and Peter pretends like he can’t actually hear them even though he most definitely can. “The _truth_ is that Spidey is almost as important to me as you are, but we really are just friends.”

“Aw, darn.” Ellie’s head droops and she kicks at a stone on the sidewalk. “You promise you’ll tell me first if that changes, right?” She steps into him for a hug and whispers softly into the side of his neck. “I really want you to be happy.”

“Oh, pumpkin.” Wade sighs and wraps her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I promise you that I’m very happy.” He stands up quickly after that. “Now, I think we were gonna take a walk and go get some treats, weren’t we?”

The enthusiasm in his voice has Ellie bouncing on her feet again. “Yeah! Treats!” She turns without another word and starts off down the sidewalk, apparently knowing where they’re supposed to be going. Aurora breaks away from Peter, trotting up to Ellie’s side with a few excited jumps.

Peter tries to act like he didn’t hear anything that was just said, but it’s really hard. He finds it difficult to look at Wade as they fall into step beside each other and follow after Ellie. Wade walks with his hands in his pockets and there’s a tense line to his shoulders. He’s well aware of Peter’s powers, and they’ve used his super hearing to their advantage more than once.

It makes for a bit of an awkward walk.

Acting like nothing happened really isn’t working. Peter has his hands in the pockets of his ratty jacket, and he keeps glancing at Wade from the corner of his eye. For a whole block, they walk in silence and it’s like an itch under Peter’s skin. He hasn’t even said ‘hello’ to Wade yet, and here they are just walking along in silence. _Silence_. That’s not a word that’s often used to describe time spent with Wade Wilson or Deadpool. Ever.

They go a second block without saying anything. Ellie seems to be letting Aurora lead, and they trudge after Ellie wherever she goes.

At the start of the third block, Peter opens his mouth and then closes it. What the heck is he supposed to say? One of them has to take the plunge and he’s pretty sure Wade is _way_ more stubborn than him.

“Hey.” Peter clears his throat and sways just enough to bump their shoulders together. “You alright?”

Wade’s lips press into a thin line for a moment, and he doesn’t take his eyes off Ellie. After a long minute, he finally speaks. “She’s a spitfire, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She’s just like her dad.” He nods in agreement, perfectly happy to talk about _something_ , even if it’s not an answer to the question asked.

That earns him a lopsided grin, though it’s only there for a moment before it falls, and Wade is looking away again. He sighs and rubs a hand over the back of his head. The image inducer does a good job of making it look like he’s running his fingers through his hair instead of just over scarred, bald skin.

“Listen.” Wade glances to his other side before looking at Peter again. “I just wanna—I guess I need to—Y’know, I gotta apologize. For what Ellie and me said back there. It’s—You were probably uncomfortable, and that’s not—I know you put the kibosh on that kinda shit way back when, and I’ve been doing good about not—It’s just Ellie, y’know? She’s really—I—” Frustration crosses his face. Wade is clearly annoyed with himself for not being able to get out what it is he wants to say.

“It’s okay, Wade.” The smile comes easily, and Peter bumps his shoulder again. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.”

“You… you don’t?” Wade looks at him again, brow furrowed.

Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I think it’s cute.”

That only makes the furrow deepen. “What’s cute?”

“Ellie.” He gestures with his chin. “She’s—What’s that word you’re always using? Ships? Yeah, that’s it. She ships Deadpool and Spider-Man, right? It’s kinda cute.”

Wade is staring at him now, eyebrows up and mouth open. He nearly walks right into someone, clearly no longer paying any kind of attention to where he’s going. Peter hooks his arm through Wade’s and pulls him out of the way, neatly sidestepping other pedestrians.

It would be so easy to take his arm back, but Peter doesn’t. Wade seems to have checked out, so Peter leaves his arm where it is and guides him along the sidewalk while they follow Ellie and Aurora. This has the potential to be awkward, but he doesn’t really feel it. If anything, this feels kind of normal—feels _natural_.

God, what in the heck is going on with him?

Is Peter really so shallow that any interest he’s showing Wade now is because he’s seen what his face _used_ to be like? Because that—That makes him one _heck_ of a dick. Like, Peter always knew that Wade was hot. (Body wise, at least. Face wise too. Right now.) But knowing and realizing are two different things and now he’s _realizing_ , and Peter is a jerk. The biggest jerk _ever_. A real heel of a person, because he’s not sure if he’ll still have this stirring of _interest_ once he sees the scars.

The confused and surprised expression that Wade has carried for half a block slowly starts to fall into a frown again. He comes to a sudden stop, right there in the middle of the sidewalk, and turns to face Peter, jerking their arms apart in the process. “Peter.”

Crap.

“No cutesy nickname?” Peter turns to him too, eyebrow raised and hoping some levity might take the sting out of whatever comes next. “This must be serious.”

Wade doesn’t even crack a hint of a smile. He just stares down the few inches of difference in their height. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Am I—” Crap. Was he? Peter blinks several times, trying to go through everything that just happened and figure out if it could be considered flirting or not. “I—Flirting? I don’t—Am I?”

“You’ve kinda been giving off some signals.” Wade rubs at the back of his neck again and glances down at their shoes. “It’s confusing, Pete. And you—Well, you only really started doing it after seeing me like _this_.” He gestures at his own face. “Is this what you like? Because I’ll wear the image inducer every goddamn day of my life if it’s what gets you to accept me.”

Peter feels like he’s been slapped in the face. “ _Accept_ you?” He frowns. “Wade, I accepted you as you are _ages_ ago.” He thought that was pretty obvious. Otherwise they never would have gotten close enough to be hanging out like this now.

“Yeah, everything except for the stabby-shooty-stabby.” Instead of dropping his voice into a whisper as one would normally do when having an argument in public, Wade actually gets louder. “Changing that was a _requirement_ to even be allowed in your presence!”

Wow, it’s been a long time since _that_ was brought up. They’ve talked this particular topic to death and back, and Peter isn’t in the mood to rehash the past. “I am _not_ having that argument with you again, Wade.” He crosses his arms. “And _you_ were the one who came to _me_ , begging me to help you change.”

Wade looks like he’s gearing up to keep arguing, but Peter steps forward, crowding him back towards the window of the bodega they’re standing in front of. “I don’t care about your skin, Wade. I never have, and it’s not going to bother me even when you _do_ show me. You’re my best friend.” He reaches out to touch his arm. “I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

The confusion and vague hope that had filled Wade’s face ices over. He rolls his eyes and jerks away to start along the sidewalk again. “Right. Best _friend_.”

Oof. Yeah. He did just kinda friendzone him with that line, didn’t he? That’s a bit of a kick in the nuts given that they’re in some weird place that lies between friendship and— and whatever it is that Wade wants from him. Peter knows Wade is attracted to him, that he has feelings for him, but they’ve never sat down and talked about it. Wade has kept all that to himself since Peter first shut it down _hard_ while he was dating (and soon to be engaged to) Mary Jane.

“Wade, wait!” Peter starts after him, only for Wade to stop suddenly and have him walk right into his back. “Hey, what the—?”

“Ellie?” Wade straightens sharply and glances around. “Ellie!”

Peter steps around him, and his chest constricts with panic when he realizes that both Ellie and Aurora are nowhere in sight. Wade stumbles forward, pushing through the crowd and shoving people out of his way as he starts shouting for Ellie, head swiveling and movement lurching as he glances into stores and tries to keep an eye on the other side of the road.

The calm that settles over Peter comes from his years of being Spider-Man. He’s not going to fault Wade for losing it, even though he’s been Deadpool a little longer than Spider-Man has been around. It’s his _kid_ who’s missing, and Peter is going to do what he does best. He’s going to _help_.

People are more concerned with Wade’s shouting than they are with the frumpy guy in ill-fitting clothing. He ducks into an alley entirely unnoticed and sprints to the very back of it. There’s a little narrow strip between the building and the one behind it, and Peter starts climbing the wall there, out of sight of the street.

It’s a quick scramble to the roof, and he sheds his clothing in a heap where he stands. He can come back for them later. Right now, he has to find Ellie. Stopping only to get his mask and gloves, Peter runs to the edge of the building and looks out from there. It gives him a good view of the whole street, but there’s no sign of Ellie or Aurora anywhere along it. He does, however, have a great vantage point of Wade as he’s running down the street, calling out Ellie’s name.

Peter swings off the building and starts checking side streets. They hadn’t stopped for _that_ long, so Ellie couldn’t have gotten far. He goes up a few blocks, across, and back down towards the one that they had been walking along. Hopefully, if he’s lucky, she’ll be—

There!

The table shakes under him when he drops onto it. Ellie is only a block up and one block over from where Peter had started his search. She’s sitting in front of a Starbucks with Aurora in her lap. There’s what looks like a frozen lemonade in one hand and a Puppuccino in the other, and she’s holding it as Aurora tries to fit her whole head inside to lick it clean of the whipped cream.

Ellie looks up in surprise, mouth in a little ‘o’. At first, it’s the surprise of having someone jump on the table suddenly, and then recognition fills her face when she realizes it’s Spider-Man. “Hi, Spidey.”

Peter stays in his classic crouch on the balls of his feet, his fingertips touching the table to balance himself. “Hello again, Ellie.” He tilts his head to the side. “You know, there are two very worried guys looking for you right now.”

She frowns and glances around. “Why are they worried? Daddy knew we were coming here to get treats.” Smiling, she looks down at Aurora. “I wanted to get She-Ra a Puppuccino. She really likes it.” And, just like that, the smile is gone again as she brings the straw of her lemonade to her lips. “Daddy had his mad face on with Petey. Emily and Terry fight sometimes, and they tell me to stay away ‘til they’re done yelling, so I just kept going.”

People are staring, so Peter slides backwards off the table to drop into the chair on the other side. “You really shouldn’t wander away from your dad like that. Especially in public.” He holds his hand out, fingers crooked. “You have a cell phone, right? May I have it, please?” Knowing Wade, he definitely got her one for emergencies—and he’s probably freaking out right now too much to remember it. What happened to those legendary mercenary skills, huh?

With a little sulk and a lot of pout, Ellie passes her phone over. Peter makes an educated guess and uses the first speed dial slot. Sure enough, it starts dialing the number labeled _The Cool Dad_. The call is picked up before the first ring has even finished.

“ _Ellie, where the **fuck** are you!?_”

“Hi, this is Spider-Man.” Peter bites back a smile. He can almost _hear_ the double-take. “I believe you’re looking for your daughter? I found her outside the Starbucks at…” He looks around and gives the intersection. “Would you like me to wait with her?”

“ _Yes, please._ ” There’s a pause, followed with a sigh. “ _And… Pete? I’m sorry._ ”

There’s no way to answer that without giving himself away to Ellie or to hint to all the people who have taken to eavesdropping because _Spider-Man_ that he might know the little girl he’s supposedly found. “I’ll see you soon, sir.” He hangs up and hands the phone back to Ellie. “He’s on his way.”

She simply shrugs and kicks her feet. “I’m just gonna get in trouble.”

“Maybe a little bit.” Peter crosses his arms on the table. “But, if he _is_ upset, you should know that it’s just because he loves you, and he was really worried that something had happened to you.”

Ellie looks away again and chews on the end of her straw. “Nothin’ even happened, _and_ I’ve got She-Ra with me.”

“She-Ra is a very small dog, Ellie.” Peter tilts his head as if he’s getting a look at where Aurora is still trying valiantly to clean out the little cup. “If someone wanted to take you away that badly, their ankles would get bitten, but she wouldn’t be able to stop them.”

Colour floods Ellie’s cheeks, but she continues to stare out at the crowds and refuses to say another word. It wouldn’t have made much difference, because Wade shows up a few moments later. He grabs up both Ellie and Aurora into his arms (the remains of the Puppuccino getting lost to the sidewalk in the process) and starts raining kisses all over his daughter’s face.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again.” He presses his face into her hair and his whole body trembles. “I don’t care what kind of insane healing powers I have. You give me a heart attack like that again, and I won’t be coming back from it.”

Instead of arguing that she’s fine, Ellie just ducks her head to tuck under his chin. “Sorry.”

Wade sighs as he takes her empty seat. “Why’d you walk off like that? I thought you knew how important it is that you _stay with me_ when we go out together.”

Ellie shrugs and remains curled against his chest, Aurora awkwardly held to her with one arm. “You were fighting with Petey.” She lifts her head slightly to glance around. “Is that why he’s not here anymore?”

“Fuck.” Apparently the swear-ban gets lifted in times of extreme duress. Wade lifts his head, catching Peter’s eye briefly before making a show of looking around. “No, he went off to look for you. I forgot to call him after Spidey called me.”

“Peter Parker, right?” Peter always feels _so dumb_ to be talking about himself like this, but it’s just one of the downsides of being him. “I didn’t know you guys were hanging out today.”

Ellie turns to face him more. “She-Ra is Petey’s dog.” She pats Aurora’s head once, and then her face falls into something not unlike horror. “Oh _no_. Is he going to take her away because he fought with you?” Actual tears start brimming in her eyes when she looks up at Wade. “You apologize to him _right now_ or I’m going to go live with Petey instead!”

“Sweetheart, I—” Wade presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head. “I don’t know. We’re just going to have to wait and see.”

Peter pushes away from the table and stands up. “Why don’t the two of you stay here for a bit? I’ll swing around the area and, if I see Peter, I’ll point him in this direction. Sounds good?”

“That’d be great. Thanks, Spidey.” Wade nods and drops his chin to rest on Ellie’s head. “I’ll send him a text message too. See if he wants me to get him anything from inside as an apology.”

“I’m sure he’d love that.” Before he steps away, Peter leans over to tap Ellie on the nose. “Promise me that next time you’ll remember to stay with the adults, okay?”

Her nose wrinkles, but there’s a smile below it. “Yeah, yeah.” She ducks her head and almost shyly looks up at him. “Thanks for looking out for me, Spidey.”

“Anytime, cutie.” Peter steps away with a wave and a thumbs up. “See ya!”

Before anyone else can stop him, like that group of tourists pointing at him with cameras and autograph books in hand, Peter whips out a web and hauls himself up and over the crowd. He swings around the block to make his way back to the first roof where he left his clothing. Aside from a curious pigeon, no one has stumbled across them, and no one notices as he gets dressed again.

Peter has to parkour across the rooftops until he can drop down to street level again and safely jog the rest of the way to the Starbucks. He’s not even remotely winded, but he puts on a big act of being out of breath as he runs up to the table.

“Oh thank _God_.” He drops into the chair opposite of them where he had been sitting just a few minutes prior. “You’re okay.”

By now, Ellie isn’t being held so tightly against Wade’s chest. She’s sitting on his knee and finishing up her lemonade with that annoying sucking sound with the straw. There’s still a guilty look around her as she gives him a small smile. “Sorry, Petey. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Peter breathes out a heavy sigh and hangs his head over the back of his chair. “I’m just glad you’re okay, kiddo.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Wade, you could’ve called me, y’know. I nearly jumped outta my skin when Spidey dropped in front of me. I’m getting too old for this crap.”

“Sorry.” Ellie looks down again. Her voice turns small and quiet. “Are you going to take She-Ra away and go home now?”

“Right now?” Peter lifts his head to give her a tired look. “No, not right now.” He heaves himself forward and pretends to wipe sweat from his forehead. “I’m going to go inside and get me an ice cap and whatever else it is that Wade wants. After that, we’re going to take Aura to the dog park and work off what you just fed her.” He points at the abandoned Puppuccino on the ground under Wade’s feet. “And then we’re going to go back to your apartment.”

Ellie’s bottom lip wobbles slightly. “And _then_ you’re going to take She-Ra home?”

Wade is very purposefully not looking at Peter, his head turned aside. The only way he could look _less_ conspicuous would be if he was whistling. There’s a lot that they left unsaid, and a whole lot they need to talk about, but Peter isn’t sure if they’ll have the chance to sit down and talk like regular adults while Ellie is still around.

And that’s why his answer is a shrug. “Maybe. We’ll see how things are when we get back.”

That makes Wade look at him again, but his expression is curiously blank. There’s something in his eyes that Peter can’t read, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the image inducer or otherwise. Either way, he holds Wade’s gaze for a long time before offering a small smile. “So, what’ll you have?”

With a little smile of his own, Wade softens. “Surprise me.”

Once he’s inside, Peter decides to order Wade that absurd Unicorn Frappuccino they came out with recently. It looks like it contains more sugar than any one person should ever have, and that’s why it’s perfect for Wade. He also grabs them both a sandwich, because it could be a while before they have dinner, and both he and Wade need way more calories than anyone else. For Ellie, he grabs a Unicorn Cake Pop—and then immediately buys a second because he knows Wade will complain that he didn’t get one too.

They both light up when he returns with the purchases, and Peter knows he made the right decision to stick around.

After the dog park where they all played with Aurora and any dog that showed interest, and after a dinner of leftovers that cleaned out the fridge, Peter ends up spending the night. Again. This time, however, it’s because he falls asleep on the couch with Ellie curled under his arm and nuzzled into his side, Aurora wedged between them with her head resting on Peter’s thigh.

It’s no surprise that he fell asleep. Peter is almost constantly sleep deprived, and he managed to eat enough that day to actually have a full stomach. That’s rare for him, and his body just decided sleep would be the best thing for him since he was holding still long enough for it. Apparently, his body doesn’t care about how interested he is in re-watching the reboot Star Trek movie, or that he wanted to stay up later than Ellie to give him a chance to talk to Wade.

They need to talk about the skin thing, and how any flirting Wade picked up on was unintentional but not—it wasn’t not _meant_. The flirting may be because of the image inducer, as much as Peter hates to admit it, but he’s almost positive that it’ll continue after he sees Wade without it. Almost. Hopefully.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the chance to touch on it that night. He falls asleep on the couch and all but forces any emotional talks to wait until the morning.


	6. Friday

This needs to stop. Peter is getting _really_ spoiled by this bed, and he’s never going to want to leave it again if he keeps waking up in it. The fact that he’s kind of okay with that happening should have some kind of red flag going up somewhere, but even his lizard hindbrain doesn’t give a flip. It’s comfortable, he went to sleep with a full stomach, _and_ he’s actually getting a decent amount of sleep this week. How can he _not_ feel great when he wakes up like this?

He stretches with a groan, squirming under the thick blanket to arch his back off the mattress, balancing on his hips and head. This isn’t as satisfying as it usually is because he’s apparently still wearing clothes, and Peter _hates_ sleeping in his clothes. He can tolerate the Spider-Man suit when he’s exhausted, but jeans and a sweater? Or a t-shirt? And with his suit still on underneath it all? Not that comfortable. They twist around him, and he makes a grumpy sound as he settles back into the bed.

Someone off to his side clears their throat and it makes his heart rate stutter up a few notches. “G’morning, handsome.”

Peter knows that it’s Wade, obviously. For one, he would recognize that voice anywhere. Secondly, this is Wade’s bed in Wade’s apartment. It is surprising, however, that after everything that happened yesterday, Wade still put him to bed. When he found himself getting drowsy last night, Peter half expected to be left to spend the night on the couch. Yet, here he is.

And that’s weird too! Ever since the spider bite, Peter has been a light sleeper. His spidey-senses go off at almost anything because God knows what sound might be related to a danger that he isn’t expecting. A neighbour slams their door? He’s awake. A car alarm goes off on the street? He’s awake. His ex-wife comes knocking at his door to ask him to babysit her dog for a week? He’s awake.

But, Wade Wilson (freaking _Deadpool_ , of all people) moves him to a bed, tucks him in, and joins him with his daughter and a dog? Peter sleeps like a baby.

_Weird_.

Slowly, Peter turns his head and cracks his eyes open. The first thing he sees is Wade, obviously, but it’s the _real_ Wade. He’s wearing the image inducer, visible around the wrist of the hand holding his head up, propped on an elbow, but it’s not on. There’s also no wall of pillows between them, though they don’t really need it when there’s a small child tucked against Wade’s chest and drooling into the pillow. Aurora is curled under Ellie’s arm, but her beady black eyes are open, and she’s watching Peter with sleepy interest.

Peter has to give it to him. Wade is pretty darn sly. Of course they’re not going to be able to have the talk they put off from yesterday if Ellie is here. Even if they whisper, there’s no telling what’s going to wake her or have her listen in on something private and personal, and more importantly… _emotional_.

But it’s hard to be annoyed by that when Peter can see the _real_ Wade for the first time. There’s a nervous bend to his hairless brows, and he’s looking down at Ellie, his thumb rubbing lightly back and forth over her arm. It’s a very _domestic_ looking scene, isn’t it? A pair of adults sharing the bed with their child and pet. It’s definitely not what one would expect to see from _Deadpool_ , and yet…

Peter finds it really weird that he’s not weirded out by all of this. In fact, he’s kinda happy? Yeah, definitely happy. He’s perfectly content to stay right where he is here in Wade’s bed. No part of him (bladder notwithstanding) wants to get up and leave right now. He’s comfortable and he feels _safe_ —which isn’t something he feels often anymore, no matter the time of day.

If he didn’t need the money, Peter would happily call in sick just so he could snuggle down and spend the rest of the day hanging out with Wade.

A lazy smile slides across his face easily. “Hey.”

He looks Wade over, and the smile doesn’t change. Yes, the scars are bad, but Peter has long since gotten used to them during all their late night snacking together. It’s given him a lot of time to build a pretty good mental image about what the rest of Wade would look like, and especially once he saw the unscarred image inducer version of his old face.

The mental overlay of the scars in his head wasn’t that bad, and Peter is happy to have it confirmed. Those expressive blue eyes, sharp nose, high cheekbones, and cut jawline are still the same. The lips are scarred, but don’t look any less soft. It’s still all the same, just layered with shifting scars. Some look soft and old, and others cracked red and raw. They look painful, and Peter would wince at them, but he knows that’s not a reaction Wade wants.

To his great relief, that stirring feeling in his chest that makes his heart skitter behind his ribs when he looks at Wade hasn’t changed. This is still the same guy he’s been hanging out with all week and for the last handful of years. Scars or no, this is still Wade, his muscled body dwarfing his daughter as she snuffles against the back of Aurora’s head.

If Ellie wasn’t here right now, Peter would be sorely tempted to shuffle across the bed and tuck up against that chest himself. It looks warm and safe, and it’s definitely a pair of pecs that he could see himself falling asleep on. And he has the feeling that Wade wouldn't complain about that one bit.

Sometimes, he doesn’t think it’s fair that Wade is so muscular. It makes Peter feel inadequate, and he’s nothing to sniff at in his own regard. Yeah, he’s not a _tank_ like Wade, but he’s average height for a guy and fairly defined from all the swinging and fighting. But, truthfully, his stomach has gotten softer over the last year of depression and pizza bingeing. He hasn’t developed a gut— _yet_ —but Peter also isn’t sure if that’s even going to be possible with his crazy metabolism.

Either way, he could bench press buses for days, and he still wouldn’t meet the width of Wade’s shoulders or hips. And of course he had to be _taller_. It’s just a few inches, but it’s still not fair. Especially because it makes Peter _drool_.

Wade finally looks up at him and his smile is tense. “Did’ja know that you snore when you sleep?”

Peter rolls his eyes and relaxes back into his pillow with a yawn, curled on his side to face him. He has no idea what time it is, and it doesn’t matter. As long as he sells pictures, he can _technically_ go to work whenever. But Jameson will yell at him if he comes after ten o’clock, because he’s contrary like that. Apparently he hasn’t gotten the memo yet that he hasn’t hired Peter on as more than casual help. He only needs to clock in if they actually have other work for him. Otherwise, he’s just a freelance photographer and has no reason to stick around.

“It must have been a good sleep, then.” Peter tucks his hands under his cheek and closes his eyes again. “Your bed is really comfortable.”

Silence falls between them for a few minutes. And then Wade pokes Peter hard in the nose. “Seriously? You’re not going to say anything about it?”

He sighs and opens his eyes slowly. “Do you _want_ me to say something about it?” Peter didn’t say anything the first time Wade rolled his mask up to eat, so why should he now?

“Well, yeah, I guess? I dunno.” Wade looks down at Ellie and moves his hand to scratch between one of Aurora’s ears. Her tiny tail thumps against the mattress under the blanket. “Kinda figured you would. Maybe?”

“There isn’t much to say, Wade.” Peter shrugs and reaches out. Despite the size of the bed, they’re lying pretty close together. It’s close enough for Peter to reach Wade and drag his fingers down his arm, tracing the bumps and ridges of scars. “Do they hurt?” He’s asked about it before, but has never gotten an answer.

Wade watches the path his fingers take. “All the time.” He bites his bottom lip lightly. “But I’m used to it. Hell, I don’t even get bad skin days that often anymore ever since I started my _insane_ moisturizing routine.”

Peter smiles and thumbs the bone at Wade’s wrist. “Oh, is that why you stopped stinking of sweat and blood a year ago?” He raises an eyebrow at the surprise that crosses Wade’s face. “Yeah, you started smelling of coconut and vanilla, and leather and gunpowder, but that’s the suit and not you.”

“I don’t know if I’m turned on or weirded out that you know how I smell.”

“I hope it’s that second one.” Peter looks pointedly down at Ellie before glancing back up, because the first one would be pretty weird while she’s here. If she wasn’t… Hm. “You’ve had the scars for a long time, Wade. Why did you only start the moisturizing thing a year ago?”

A frown creases Wade’s brow and he looks down at Ellie too, though his fingers still keep tickling behind Aurora’s ears. “Because I had a really bad skin day during one of the weeks with my baby girl. She was scared and cried and I—I never wanted her to see me like that again.” He gives Peter a grim, tight smile. “So I went and forced an appointment with the world’s best dermatologist and demanded they help me. You probably wouldn’t be proud of the things I said.”

“I can imagine.” But he doesn’t care. Peter just smiles, lazy and slow because he’s so comfortable that everything is starting to get hazy in that falling-asleep-again kind of way.

Without really thinking about it, Peter trails two fingers down over the back of Wade’s hand. He draws it away from Aurora’s ears so he can trace the lines of his fingers. Wade watches, eyes wide, as Peter manipulates his hand to curl all except his index and middle finger. His brain is somewhere else entirely as he holds his hand the same way and gently presses the tips of their two fingers together.

Almost instantly, Wade snorts loudly and drops his head forward to hide his face in Ellie’s hair. His whole body shakes with giggles, which in turn makes the bed shake and that’s just rude.

“What?” Peter frowns, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Who the fuck do you think I am, Petey?” Wade lifts his head, and there are actual tears in his eyes. “You think I’m not going to recognize a Vulcan kiss when I see one?”

Oh. _Oh crap_. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter flushes darkly and jerks his hand back, turning it into a full rollover. “What time is it?”

“You’re the one who made me binge Star Trek: The Original Series with you!” Wade is almost full on laughing at this point, and Peter’s ears are _burning_. “And you were just bitching _last night_ about the reboot series with Spock and Uhura’s kiss in the transporter room! I mean, I get it. Spock and Kirk should _totally_ be together, but—” 

The alarm clock says it’s just ten minutes after seven o’clock. He’s embarrassed, but not enough to ignore that there’s a timeline to their mornings. “Doesn’t Ellie’s bus come soon?”

The teasing and giggles cuts off sharply. “Shit, really? What time is it?”

“Almost a quarter after seven.”

“ _Fuck_!” The whole bed bounces as Wade jumps to his knees. He rips the blanket off everyone. “Ellie! Wake up, you little monster!”

With a groan, she curls tighter around Aurora. “No. Princess Pennyfeather says there’s still time to sleep.”

“Not a chance in h-e-double-hockey-sticks.” Wade neatly lifts her arm and plucks Aurora free from her hold. “Mrs. Doubtfire is going home with Petey today.” He hands her off to Peter while Aurora gives a wide yawn, tongue lolling out. “Go!”

Well, he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Peter is up and off the bed in an instant, almost sprinting from the room as Ellie shrieks. Aurora whines against his chest, but she starts up on her happy yips when she notices he’s going straight to the door.

“No!” Ellie comes flying down the hallway just as Peter is clipping the leash to Aurora’s collar. “Please don’t, Petey!”

“She needs her morning walk, and _you_ need to get ready for school.” Peter keeps himself positioned between the two while he slips his shoes on. “And I have to go home to get ready to go to work.”

Ellie’s bottom lip starts wobbling. “B-but… But Pennyfeather _needs_ me!”

Peter’s panic meter climbs through the roof. He’s only ever been good with crying children as Spider-Man because kids _love_ Spider-Man. When he’s just plain ol’ Peter Parker… What the heck is he supposed to do? All he can do is bite his bottom lip and look to Wade for help.

Wade is leaning against the island with his arms crossed over his silly pink tank top. His brows are raised, and that’s a very _amused_ smile on his stupid lips. Clearly, he’s waiting to see how Peter is going to handle this because he’s a _jerk_.

Breathing heavily through his nose, though not quite a sigh, Peter crouches down to Ellie’s height. “Hey, kiddo. It’s okay. I’ve still got Aura for a few more days.”

“But—” She tucks her chin to her chest and sniffles loudly. “ _But_ …”

He puts a hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to take her home with me today so she can relax with all the stuff I have for her. And then, if your dad is okay with it, I can bring her over again when I’m finished with work today, and we can hang out all evening. How does that sound?”

Ellie’s bottom lip is sticking out when she looks up at him with wide, wet eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise.” And to prove he means it, Peter holds out his pinky finger.

She hooks her finger in his, and they shake on it. When she steps back, she points at his hand. “That means if you break your promise, I’m allowed to break your pinky. It’s the _law_!”

Wade snorts at the startled expression that passes over his face. “Yeah, Petey. It’s the law.”

Peter doesn’t even need to ask to know who told her that. He gives Wade a pointed glare before standing up again, leash in hand. “Fine. I’ll play by your rules.” He grabs his coat and pulls it on. “I’m going to head out now, and I _promise_ I’ll see you both later.”

Unfortunately, this means that Peter is going to miss out on breakfast, and there’s no lunch made by Wade. That’s fine, though. He can dip into the money Mary Jane sent him to grab a bagel and coffee on the way to work, and lunch could be… If he’s lucky, he may have a pack of instant noodles he can grab to microwave at the Bugle offices.

“Wait, Pete!” Wade steps forward before Peter can even turn away. He purposefully holds his hand out with only his index and middle finger raised. It’s entirely unfair how _hopeful_ he looks.

Peter swallows thickly and stares at those fingers, knowing that he’s steadily growing more and more red in the face. Wade is point blank asking for a kiss. _Banana split mint chocolate chip_. He looks between the fingers and Wade and back again. With every glance, Wade begins looking less sure of himself.

This is so _nerdy_. Peter’s heart is in his throat. He hasn’t kissed anyone since Mary Jane and even if it’s a Vulcan kiss, it’s still a _kiss_. It _means_ something.

“What’re you doing?” Ellie’s face crumples in confusion as she glances between them.

That little voice breaks him out of his hesitation. Peter darts forward to press his fingers against Wade’s in a brief touch, and then he’s scooping Aurora to his chest and very much fleeing out the door. The sound of honest-to-goodness _whooping_ follows him down the hall, covering up whatever questions Ellie must be asking.

Assuming that no one is in the stairwell and trusting his senses to alert him if there are, Peter takes the stairs down. He leaps each flight to the next landing so he can get out of the building as fast as he can. Aurora isn’t happy with it, and she’s trembling by the time he gets to the sidewalk and can put her down.

“Sorry, Aura. Sorry.” Peter clutches his chest and takes a few deep breaths to try and calm the rapid thud of his heart, folded over into a crouch next to her on the sidewalk.

His face feels like it’s on fire, and he waits to catch his breath before he quickly starts them walking back towards home. It’s a long way to Queens and at least one river to cross, which isn’t going to be fun at this time of day. If anything, Peter should swing home, but he’s got Aurora and that’s not a possibility. Maybe he should call Dopinder?

Crap, he’s going to have to bother him this early because the bus won’t let him on with Aurora, and he doesn’t have a bag to take her on the subway.

As soon as he starts walking, she starts following at a little trot. Every few paces, she wants to stop and sniff things. Peter gives her the time to do it while he sends a message Dopinder’s way and promises to pay for the coffee.

Dopinder meets him at a coffee shop a few blocks down. He’s suspiciously chipper, and Peter isn’t entirely sure if he actually sleeps. Does he live in his cab and stay near wherever Wade happens to be so he can be ready for him at a moment’s notice? Peter wouldn’t be surprised. Wade is a _heck_ of a cash cow, and he’s probably single handedly putting Dopinder’s children (if he has any) through school.

Thanks to him, Peter gets home in record time. He has more than enough time to feed Aurora, take a shower, and change his clothes. His reflection in the mirror while he’s brushing his teeth is _still_ flushed, despite the water of his shower never climbing past a lukewarm temperature.

That happened. That _actually_ happened. Peter might not have actually kissed Wade, but he still _kissed_ him. In a way. In a stupidly nerdy way. Shut up, it’s complicated and dumb, and Peter crumples into a crouch with a groan. He rests his forehead against the edge of the chipped sink and whines to himself.

“Crap, crap, crap, crap, _crap_.”

And now he has to face a day at work before he’s going to see Wade again. What’s going to happen then? Is Wade going to want to kiss him again? What if he wants to kiss _for real_? Is Peter going to be able to do that?

The scars aren’t a problem. Far from it, actually. He thought about it all the way home, silently looking out the window in the backseat of the cab while Dopinder chatted away merrily. The longer he thought about it, the more Peter realized that, even though he does tend to have a type ( _really hot people_ ), he’s not shallow enough to only like Wade’s image inducer face.

His attraction might have started because of that, but the _stirrings_ he’s been feeling—the things that make his insides feel hot and soupy, but not in a bad way—they’re still here. In fact, if he thinks about it, Peter is almost positive that he didn’t start feeling like this until _after_ he realized that Wade likes _him_ , and he doesn’t mean Spider-Man.

Everyone and their mother knows that Deadpool thinks the sun shines out of Spider-Man’s butt. But Wade is actually interested in _Peter Parker_ too. Unlike Felicia who dropped him like a hot potato the moment he took off his mask, Wade _hugged_ him. He squealed like a little girl and gushed, and then all he wanted to do was learn _more_ about him. And things have just snowballed ever since.

It terrifies him, and Peter leaves Aurora with the clock radio playing, too scared to actually look at his phone. Wade has probably messaged him a half dozen times by now, and Peter can’t—he just _can’t_ right now. He’s sick with nerves, and it’s too reminiscent of the time before his relationship with Gwen, or even his relationship with Mary Jane. And that—That’s _telling_. Telling and terrifying.

Suddenly he’s sixteen again, and it’s the _worst thing in the world_.

On the way home from work, the train rumbling bad enough to make his butt go numb, Peter ignores the many unread messages under Wade’s name. He spent all day thinking about him, like the putz he is, and he’s still not ready to confront him—even though a part of him _is_ actually looking forward to seeing both Wade and Ellie again.

With some measure of guilt, Peter chooses to instead open the rarely used chat with Mary Jane. He stares at the last picture of Aurora he sent before drumming up the courage to actually send a message.

_< < Hey MJ… Just wondering if you have an idea of when you’ll be picking Aurora up?_

Surprisingly, she answers fairly quickly. **_Actually… I’ve been meaning to call you about that._**

Oh no. A cold sweat breaks out across the back of his neck, and he swipes his hand over it absentmindedly, typing the answer with one hand.

_< < ???_

**_> > Things are taking a little longer here than expected...  
>> Could you PLEASE watch her for maybe another week? It might not even be the whole week! _ ** **🙏 _  
> > I promise to keep you updated!_**

Mary Jane must be really confident that he’s going to say ‘ _yes_ ’ because, a moment later, he’s notified that another couple hundred dollars has been transferred to his bank account. He gapes at the notice before accepting the transfer. If she has this kind of money, why couldn’t she have just put Aurora up in a kennel? Or hired a proper pet sitter to watch her apartment at the same time? Both would have probably been cheaper than making him do it.

But if she had done that, then who knows when Peter would have unmasked for Wade. He might never have met Ellie either, and—and things between him and Wade would have taken a lot longer to reach whatever point they’re standing at now, if ever.

Things are so _different_ from last week, and Peter honestly doesn’t know if he would change things.

_< < It’s fine. She’s grown on me. _😊

**_> > Thank you so much, Tiger! You’re a lifesaver! _ ** **😘**

That old nickname and the emoji sting a little. Peter sends her a thumbs up, even though he’s really feeling very thumbs down.

Aurora is _ecstatic_ to see him when he walks in. Peter picks her up and lets her lick his stubbled cheek for a bit while he sits on the edge of his lumpy bed and finally gives reading Wade’s messages a chance.

Unsurprisingly, a good seventy percent of the missed messages are memes or various things that Wade probably thought would make him laugh. To his credit, they do get a little chuckle out of him. Mixed in to all of that are a half dozen messages that consist of nothing but strings of heart emojis, gifs of people swooning, and a couple kiss emojis.

The last message squeezes around Peter’s heart and drags it up into his throat.

**_> > Seriously tho… no pressure, Petey. Swearsies! _ **

That’s… Not fair to Wade. Even if he doesn’t want to put pressure on Peter, it’s still there. Wade likes him and probably wants more with him and—and Peter isn’t sure if he can be what Wade wants. There’s a big difference between thinking guys are hot and being able to have a relationship with one. And—and—and does Wade even _want_ a relationship? What if he wants to be casual? Peter can’t do _casual_. Not after everything that happened with Felicia.

God, he’s going to think himself straight into a panic attack at this rate.

With a sigh, Peter rubs his hands over his face. He looks down at Aurora where she’s on her side in his lap, leg raised and belly bared. She’s looking at him expectantly, and he can’t help but smile. “Would you rather belly scratches or… a _walk_?”

The word is barely out of his mouth before she launches herself out of his lap. She spins in circles in the doorway, stopping every few moments to put her paws on the door and whine.

“Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute.” Peter stands up with a stretch and checks his phone again. It’s a Friday, so he doesn’t _technically_ have to go in to work tomorrow if he doesn’t want to, and he can spend more time with Ellie and Wade.

Keeping that in mind, Peter finds the bag that Mary Jane brought all of Aurora’s stuff in. He packs it back up with every dog thing that somehow has gotten scattered around his apartment. Knowing Ellie, she’s going to want to have Aurora all weekend, and Peter isn’t going to be able to deny her. It works for him, really. He can just bring everything to Wade’s place and leave Aurora with them at night when he goes out as Spider-Man.

Two familiar people are standing on the sidewalk outside his apartment when he finally makes his way down there. Peter figured he would give Dopinder a call while walking Aurora so he could meet him back at the building, but that looks like it’s not going to be required.

“Why am I not surprised?” He rolls his eyes with a smile and drops Aurora’s leash into Ellie’s waiting hands. “Where’re we headed today, kiddo?”

“Another dog park!” Ellie beams up at him, and then immediately squats to give Aurora some nonsense gibberish and a rub down.

Wade shuffles his feet, his head ducked and his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Petey.” His voice is small and cautious, and maybe Peter shouldn’t have ignored his messages all day if it meant that the notorious _Deadpool_ would curl in on himself, looking for all the world like someone stole his puppy.

“Hi, Wade.” Peter swallows and has just as much trouble not wanting to hide himself in the nearest dumpster. “How’s—uh—it going?”

He gets a shrug in answer.

Ellie is either oblivious to the awkward we’re-still-dumb-teenagers moment happening between the adults, or she doesn’t care in the slightest, because she stands up with a bounce and starts down the sidewalk. Wade takes one wide step after her and grabs her hand before she can get too far ahead of them.

She blinks up at him with a frown before easing into a guilty smile. “It’s okay, Dad. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sorry, pumpkin.” Wade squeezes her hand in his. “You’re gonna need to put up with it until I stop getting heart palpitations.” He gives her a little smile before glancing at Peter and holding out his other hand. “I’ve got a free hand for you too, if you want it?”

His fingers wiggle as Peter stares at them. It certainly _looks_ inviting, but he’s torn about accepting it. If he does, then he’s giving Wade hope for something he’s not entirely sure he can follow through on. If he doesn’t… He’ll be hurting Wade’s feelings either way, and that’s just—It’s _wrong_. Peter doesn’t want to do that.

With a lump in his throat, Peter takes the offered hand and hopes Wade doesn’t notice that his palms are starting to sweat. Honestly, he probably doesn’t care. Wade is looking at Peter like he’s the second coming of Christ, and the noise he makes is more of a squeal than anything else.

Ellie gives a scandalized gasp beside him. “ _Wade_!” She tugs on his hand to yank him down to her height. “What about _you-know-who_?”

Peter has to bite his lip to keep the little bubble of laughter from getting out. At this point, he’s not sure that it wouldn’t sound a little hysterical.

“Spidey isn’t Voldemort, sweetie. You can say his name without summoning him—trust me, I’ve put that to the test more times than there are freckles on your nose.”

She still gives him a suspicious look and then turns it on Peter too. Is she going to hate him if she thinks he’s taking Wade away from Spider-Man? Crap. This raises the whole question about whether or not he should reveal himself to Ellie too. She must be good at keeping secrets, since she apparently doesn’t tell anyone about her biological father being _Deadpool_ —which is a fact that probably makes her the safest little girl in the whole world. Does that mean she would be safe even if she knew he was Spider-Man?

Peter files that all away to talk to Wade about later. If he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, then they’re just going to have to work around Peter ruining Ellie’s hopes and dreams that her dad would date Spider-Man.

Ellie turns her frown back to Wade. “I’m going to tell on you.”

Wade shrugs and starts walking, forcing everyone else to fall into step next to him. “I’m sure Spidey will understand.”

“But you’re _cheating_.”

“Baby girl.” He shakes his head and looks down at her. “You can’t cheat on someone you never had in the first place.”

Or when that someone is the same person you’re apparently cheating on them with. Peter can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes, but he does keep his eyes firmly forward. His hand gets squeezed fairly hard in punishment, and he glances over to find Wade giving him an eyebrow arched in amusement.

Peter squeezes back just a little bit harder. “Is this really a game you want to play with me, Wade?”

He visibly weighs his options before shaking his head. “Nah. I prefer the bones in my hands to be not squished, thank you very much.”

“What?” Ellie leans around Wade again to give Peter a suspicious look.

“It’s nothing, princess.” Wade brushes her off with a swing of his arm. “Should we skip all the way to the dog park? I think we should.”

“I think you’ll be doing that on your own then.” Peter opens his hand, but Wade doesn’t give up his grip on it, conceding to walking like normal people without a word.

The rest of the walk to the dog park goes by fairly quickly, especially once Peter distracts Ellie with asking about her day at school. She loves to talk (much like her dad), and he’s happy to listen, smiling as Wade injects his own opinions about school here and there.

When they reach the gates to the park, Wade stops them and turns to Ellie. “I need my dog, please.”

She rolls her eyes and turns so he can get into the backpack. After a few moments of rooting around through it, Wade surfaces with a [little wooden dog on a string](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/740678801289117728/752895422229643344/images.png). It looks _ancient_ , the paint is faded in places, and it looks like the green bobble at the end of the tail is held on with tape and hope. The string itself has been lengthened with sparkly yarn, obviously so Wade can drag it behind him without having to stoop over.

Ellie doesn’t wait a moment longer. As soon as Wade has it on the ground, she heads into the park with Aurora in tow. Her bag full of tricks once again makes her a favourite for all the other dogs, and Peter watches her with a smile. Wade takes his hand again as soon as he’s upright, and they follow. This particular park doesn’t actually have paths to walk, but they make do.

“So…” Peter clears his throat and glances at Wade. “Are you going to tell me where you managed to find that toy?”

“Bold of you to assume that this isn’t from my own childhood.” Wade turns his nose up with a bit of a harrumph.

Peter fakes his shock. “You had a childhood? And here I thought you [sprang fully grown from an icy lake like you said all Canadians](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLi_1fjPNi0) do.”

Wade flashes him a grin, clearly pleased that Peter remembers the jokes he’s made. “Hate to break it to you, Petey, but, once upon a time, I was a young warthog.” His eyes go unfocused for a moment as he looks off after Ellie. “And it wasn’t all shit. Things weren’t half bad while my mom was still around.”

That sounds like it could be a touchy subject, and Peter is just a _little_ worried about poking at it. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. After the years they’ve been hanging out together, he’s managed to piece together—through all the jokes and the sarcasm—the truth of Wade’s past before he joined Weapon X. It wasn’t the greatest, and it’s made Peter, on more than one occasion, want to look into time travel just so he can go back and give kid-Wade a hug.

The time for him to comment on what was said comes and goes, and Wade shakes his head like he’s clearing it of memories. Peter figures a change of topic is needed, and he looks down at where their hands are being held between them.

“You know, I haven’t done this since before my divorce.”

Wade glances at him and then at where he’s looking. “What? Holding hands?” His eyebrows come together in a confused frown. “I’m almost positive that we’ve held hands on a mission at least once in the last year. Probably. I can check my diary when we get home.”

A smile briefly lifts the corner of Peter’s mouth. “I meant, like, _any_ of this, Wade.” He looks up at him and takes a deep breath. “I’m not—I was never really good at this part. Gwen and MJ, they led me around by the nose. I’m _still_ not sure what I ever did to get them to want to be with me.” He pauses and looks away with a blush. “The same could be said about you too, I guess. And Felicia was—Well, we all know that she didn’t want _me_.”

The grip on his hand grows a little tighter as Wade’s voice drops into a deeper, angrier register. “She didn’t know what she had.”

Though he’s grateful to hear that, Peter still can’t bring himself to look at Wade again. “Technically speaking, you don’t really know what you have either. You only just met me.”

“Ex _cuse_ you!” Wade jerks his hand free and turns to Peter with an insulted huff. “I’ve known you for _years_. Have a little faith that I can tell what’s part of the Spidey persona and what’s the actual nerd beneath it all.”

Peter can only blink at him.

Wade sighs loudly and throws an arm around his shoulders. “Tell me, Petey-pie, is Peter Parker not a _massive nerd_ who built Star Wars lego models alone at home when he was kid? Is Peter Parker not the dweeb that maintained straight As in every subject except gym class until he got bitten? Is photography not his favourite hobby that he’s turned into a career until he can figure out how to afford going back to school? Which, by the way, I can pay for.”

“Wade—”

He tries to interrupt, but is immediately talked over. “Is Peter Parker not the poorest motherfucker I know because he devotes almost every free moment to protecting a sorry ass city that barely gives a shit about him? Is he not a sassy queen all the time but too socially anxious to actually say any of it without the mask? Is he not—”

Okay, that’s enough. Peter reaches up to clap a hand over Wade’s mouth. “Alright, alright. You’ve got a mental catalogue of all things me. I get it!”

Wade smiles against his hand. “See? I _know_ you.”

But he doesn’t know _everything,_ and Peter wants to tease with that. “Since you claim to know me _so well_ , then answer me this…” One of Wade’s eyebrows goes up, and Peter gives him a serene kind of smile. “Has Peter Parker ever been with a man?”

Check and mate. Wade’s mouth drops open to answer, but he stops dead in his tracks. He blinks a handful of times, closes his mouth, opens it again, and finally manages just one little word: “Huh.”

“Ah- _hah_.” Peter grins and crosses his arms, rather proud of himself for stumping him. “I guess you don’t know everything, hm?”

“Have you… I mean—You know…” Wade licks his lips and brings his hands up, one forming a circle with index and thumb, and the other poking a finger through the circle a few times. It’s a crude gesture, and Peter quickly slaps his hands down.

“We’re in _public_ , Wade!” A blush rises to his cheeks whether he wants it there or not. He looks around sharply to make sure no one saw before he leans in slightly. “And no, I haven’t.”

Wade’s eyes grow wide. “Not _ever_? Jesus, Pete, what kind of frigid cuckold were you married to?”

Now that was just uncalled for. Peter sighs and gives him a flat stare. “Dude.”

“Did you consummate the marriage, Petey?” Wade grabs him by the shoulders and gives him a shake. “This is _very_ important! Everyone always assumes you’re a virgin. Prove the readers wrong, Petey! _Prove the readers wrong_!”

“I’m not a virgin!” Almost immediately, Peter blushes darkly. “Oh my God.” He covers his face and groans as a few people around them stop what they’re doing to throw concerned glances his way.

A wild cackle precedes Wade doubling over in laughter. Peter turns on his heel and starts to quickly walk away with his shoulders up around his ears and his hands in his pockets. Ellie is blissfully unaware of them, happily throwing sticks and balls and anything she can get her hands on for every single dog that comes up to her.

It takes a minute, but Wade eventually jogs to catch up to him, his little toy dog in tow. “I’m just teasing, Petey. Don’t be mad.”

When Peter chooses to ignore him, Wade catches Peter’s elbow to pull him to a stop. “ _Hey_.” He’s surprisingly serious and sincere when Peter turns to him. “I’m sorry.”

Making a fool of himself in front of strangers isn’t even the problem. Peter does that on the daily in spandex. But there’s something about having to admit to Wade about his inexperience with guys that’s just—

He sighs loudly and looks away. “I’ve never been with a guy, but I was kissed by one once.”

Now _that_ gets Wade’s attention. His eyes grow bright, and he leans in slightly, a little too eager for Peter’s liking. “Oh? Who?”

“You’re just going to make fun of me if I tell you.”

“Well, yeah, that’s a given.” Wade shrugs and leans in more. “But it’s never stopped you before.”

He has a point, but that doesn’t mean Peter has to like it. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It was Johnny Storm.”

“ _Fuck_.” Wade stomps his foot and hangs his head back. “Great, now I owe Dom twenty bucks.”

Peter can feel his face getting hot again, and he’d really like to _not_ blush in front of Wade at some point today. “I can’t believe you bet on me like that!”

Unfortunately, Wade has stopped listening. He shoves his hands in his pockets and sulks. “Goddammit. She doesn’t even _know_ Johnny. How the hell did she win _again_?” He keeps grumbling to himself as he kicks at the ground and shuffles on.

On the bright side, Wade isn’t acting jealous. Peter half-expected himto throw a tantrum that he wouldn’t be his first gay kiss. But that’s just putting the idea of kissing Wade into his brain, and it scares him how much he _doesn’t_ mind that thought.

With a clicking swallow, Peter jogs slightly to catch up to Wade, stopping when a ball bounces over to him followed by no less than three dogs. Peter picks it up and lobs it from hand to hand, enjoying that all three have their eyes fixed on him. Grinning, he throws it, and they tear off after it with barks of excitement. He laughs as they trip and bump into each other.

“I like this.”

Peter glances at Wade to find that he’s softened at the edges again, watching him with that fond look in his eyes. “Like what?”

“Getting to hang out with you like this.” Wade reaches for his hand again, and Peter doesn’t feel so awkward holding it this time around. “It’s really gonna kill Ellie when your ex takes Jessica Jones home.”

As someone who actually knows Jessica, and went to school with her both pre and post-powers, Peter has to do a double take before he realizes that Wade is talking about Aurora. He sighs and glances towards where Ellie is sitting on the ground with Aurora between her legs, giving her a full body rub down while a terrier of some kind is all but begging for belly scratches of its own next to her.

“Yeah, I know.” Peter’s chest grows tight at the thought of breaking up that pair. “On the bright side, MJ asked me to keep her for another week. I know you only have Ellie for this week, but—”

“I get weekends too.” Wade perks up slightly. “The Prestons will pick her up after school on Monday, so she’s all ours until that morning.”

_Ours_.

Peter tries valiantly to pretend like he didn’t notice that. “Well, if you want to spoil your daughter rotten, I could just… I mean, I could hang out with you guys all weekend. If you want, that is.”

Wade sucks in a sharp breath, and his eyes grow wide. “Are you asking to move in with me, Petey?”

“That is absolutely not what I said.”

“Oh, but it’s _definitely_ happening!” Wade wraps his arms around Peter and lifts him off his feet for a quick spin. And then he drops Peter just as suddenly, taking off at sprint for Ellie with his little toy dog flapping behind him. “Ellie, baby! Petey and Rainbow Dash are going to move in with us!”

Ellie’s answer is to shriek in delight and throw her hands in the air. Wade scoops both her and Aurora up and spins with them. He finishes the spin with balancing Ellie on one of his shoulders, both of them fixing Peter with matching grins as he joins them. Aurora is squirming in Ellie’s arms, and Peter takes her to leash her properly.

“I can’t move in if we’re at the dog park.” If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Peter knows how to pick his battles, and this isn’t one he’s going to win. “I think it’s time we start heading home and find something to eat. How about you?”

“Yes!” Ellie claps excitedly. “What’re we having?”

Wade strikes a pose, which very nearly unseats Ellie. “Tonight we dine on _Justice_!” He swings her down off his shoulder with ease. “With a side of… Oh, I dunno. What’s everyone’s guts hungry for?”

“Vietnamese?” He looks at Wade hopefully, even widening his eyes to try and look _really_ pathetic. It might not work as well as it used to when he was a teen. Now he’s got a five o’clock shadow and permanent bags under his eyes, so—

After one look at him, colour blooms high in Wade’s cheeks, and he nods. “Vietnamese it is!” He pats Ellie on the top of her head. “It’s like fancy Chinese food. You’re going to love it.”

Peter resists the urge to pump the air in delight. It’s been a _long_ time since he had Vietnamese, and this is going to be a heck of a treat for him. Too bad Aunt May isn’t with them. She loves Vietnamese.

Actually, speaking of Aunt May… “I just remembered that I’m going to need to go have dinner with my Aunt on Sunday.” Peter doesn’t have a choice about who gets to walk Aurora, because Ellie takes the leash from him as soon as they start back towards the entrance to the park. “You’re cool with me leaving Aura with you, right?”

“ _Duh_.” Ellie flicks her ponytail at him and struts ahead with Aurora at her side.

“And you’ll watch her for me tonight?” Peter puts a hand on Wade’s arm and gives him a meaningful look so he knows exactly what he’s not saying.

Wade meets his eyes and nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“I thought you said you were staying with us.” Ellie glances back over her shoulder at them. “Why aren’t’cha staying tonight?”

“My job is taking pictures of Spider-Man, and he’s mostly out at night.” Peter shrugs and looks down as Wade sneakily snags his hand again. “I’m just going to go out to get a few shots of him to make sure I get paid next week.”

Ellie accepts the explanation with a nod and turns forward again. She swings her arms in wide arcs and takes big stomping steps while she walks. It’s silly, kinda cute, and Peter can’t help smiling at both her and Wade.

One day, if things with Wade keep going the way they’re going, then Peter is going to have to introduce them to Aunt May. Surprisingly, he’s kind of looking forward to that. He knows she’s going to love them as much as he does.


	7. Saturday

He could go home. He _should_ go home. He doesn’t.

The horizon is just starting to get brighter as Peter lands in a crouch on the roof of Wade’s apartment building. It’s way closer than home, and, to be honest, that incredibly comfortable bed is calling to him. He started his patrol at ten o’clock last night from his own apartment, and, after six hours, he’s bruised, sore, and exhausted. All Peter wants to do is curl up and _sleep_ until the early afternoon.

Since he doesn’t have a change of clothes up here, Peter slinks down Wade’s corner of the building until he reaches the ninth floor. The bedroom window he peeks into is dark, and the king-sized bed with mussed blankets is empty. Through the bedroom door, Peter can see a light on further down the hall in the living room. After a quick test of the window and finding it latched, Peter crawls over to the next window.

Ellie’s bedroom is exactly like he imagined it would be. She has a full princess bed with a canopy and everything, but her walls are plastered with posters of superheroes, and there’s an equal mix of Barbies and action figures spread across the floor. Aurora is curled up on the bed with her, tucked against Ellie’s chest like she belongs there.

Peter smiles but still feels a twinge of sadness because their days together are numbered.

The only way in now is through the living room. He flips onto the balcony and immediately crouches to make himself less conspicuous, just in case anyone in neighbouring buildings happens to take a glance over here. Peter squats in front of the doors and shakes his head because Wade is hanging off the couch upside down with a game controller in hand. How he’s playing Uncharted 4 upside down is beyond him.

Wade falls off the couch with a thump when Peter knocks on the window. He’s on his feet a moment later, a bright smile on his face as he stumbles over to the sliding glass doors, tripping on cables as he goes. There are a half dozen locks that need to be flipped open—all of which Peter never noticed—before Wade can slide the door open.

He slips into the living room, and Wade locks up behind him, pulling the curtains closed as an afterthought. As soon as he’s inside, every muscle untenses. Peter breathes out slowly, finally relaxing now that he’s somewhere safe.

“It’s pretty late, Petey.” Wade is practically radiating heat as he steps up to him. “I was starting to get worried.”

“I wasn’t planning on coming back here after patrol, y’know.” Peter slips his mask off and shakes his head.

Wade hums behind him, and a hand lands on his shoulder, slipping down his arm in a gentle touch. “I wasn’t expecting you to. Was hoping, though.” He lifts Peter’s arm, and the other hand comes into play, checking along his side. “You always text me when you get home after a patrol, but you didn’t.”

“Sorry.” Peter vaguely remembers his phone buzzing in his secret pocket several times. “I was pretty busy. Didn’t have the time to message you.”

“I saw the news.” Wade steps around in front, fingers fluttering around Peter’s waist and chest while he checks him over for injuries. “Something about Vulture _and_ Kraven?”

Peter groans and leans forward just enough to drop his forehead against Wade’s shoulder. “Yeah. Kraven got it in his stupid head to hunt Vulture, and they were being dicks to everyone while fighting all over the city. Took me _forever_ to finally get Kraven under wraps, and then Vulture took off to go do whatever bullcrap he was planning and—” Peter cuts himself off and lifts his head. “Wade.”

“Yes, my Sweety-Petey?” Wade smiles down at him, trying for an air of innocence and falling short of it by a mile.

“There are no injuries on my butt.”

Wade shrugs. “Well, how am I supposed to know if I don’t _check_?”

Peter sighs and closes his eyes, mostly because Wade _still_ hasn’t moved his hands from where they’re cupping his backside. “Just because I held your hand and went full nerd by Vulcan kissing you doesn’t mean I’ve given you carte blanche to _grab my butt_.”

“Are you _sure_?” Wade flexes his fingers and actually gives his butt a solid squeeze.

Squeaking, Peter jumps slightly and grabs his wrists to pull them away. “Yes, I’m _sure_.”

“Alright, alright.” He holds up his hands and steps back sharply. “I guess you’re fine then.”

“Just a few bruises because Kraven’s favourite pastime is throwing me through the nearest wall.” Peter rubs his shoulder with a sigh. “Now all I want is food, a shower, and to sleep for a thousand years.”

Wade’s eyes light up. “I can give you at least two of those!” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “You go use the shower—towels are in the cabinet next to the sink—and I’ll throw a pizza in the oven. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great.” Peter gives him a grateful smile and squeezes his shoulder as he walks by. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Take your time, Petey. You deserve it.” Wade’s hand briefly brushes over his before they part ways, Peter to the bathroom and Wade to the kitchen.

Peter strips in the bathroom and leaves his suit bunched in the sink. He’ll have to hide it after his shower, but he’s too tired to care much about it right now. Ellie finding his suit would just be the easiest way of telling her who he is.

Since he’s so used to the cold showers at home, Peter steps into the tub and closes the curtain before turning on the water and cranking it to the hot setting. The pressure alone nearly knocks him off his feet, and it heats ups _instantly_ —going so hot that he bites back a scream and fumbles to turn the temperature down. Right, of course a fancy place like this would obviously have nice showers. Just add it to the ever growing list of reasons Peter doesn’t want to leave.

He spends a perfectly reasonable (though much longer than probably acceptable) time just standing under the spray, letting it pulse against his shoulders and work away the tension. If he asked, Peter is positive that Wade would jump at the chance to give him a massage. But he’s not quite there yet.

The only shampoo in the shower belongs to Ellie, which is no surprise. Peter giggles to himself that the bottle is shaped like Captain America. He uses a little bit of it for his hair, and then uses a handful of body wash from a giant bottle of Old Spice. Hopefully that belongs to Wade, because Peter can’t imagine a little girl like Ellie walking around smelling like an old man. It just makes him laugh more, and then curse quietly as some of her shampoo gets in his eye.

A cloud of steam follows him out of the bathroom when he’s finally done. Peter has a towel wrapped around his hips and a smaller one in hand to dry his hair, patting down any stray droplets on his skin that he might have missed. The apartment smells like freshly cooked pizza, and his mouth waters as he follows that scent to the kitchen. Wade is in the process of cutting it into pieces on a cutting board, a testament to how long Peter was in the shower.

“I’m officially in love with your shower.”

Wade glances up, mouth open to answer, and freezes mid cut. Peter finishes running the towel through his hair and drapes it around his shoulders. When he realizes that Wade is very obviously staring, he sighs and rolls his eyes.

“What’s the big deal?” He snaps his fingers in front of his stomach, and Wade’s gaze flicks up to his face. “You’ve seen me without a shirt before.”

“Yeah… But…” Wade swallows thickly and gestures with the knife. “ _Towel_.” A flush rises in his face, and he visibly swallows again, closing his eyes. “Shit, Petey, y’gotta—I can’t believe I’m about to say this—but you _gotta_ go put some clothes on. Are you trying to kill me by coming out here like that? Jesus.”

Peter glances down at himself. “I don’t have anything.” He glances back over his shoulder towards the hall. “Can I borrow some of your stuff?”

“ _Fuck_ , yes.” Wade makes a sound a bit like a dying whale and sways in place. “Please do.”

He’s such a dork, but Peter can’t deny that he feels a little warm at the way Wade reacts to him. Whether he’s clothed or almost naked, Wade’s obvious interest is—It’s _nice_ , especially because no one has shown that kind of interest in him in a long time. Mary Jane focused less on his body and more on his mind, but Wade worships _everything_ about him. It’s a heady thing, and Peter tries not to blush as he digs through the bedroom closet to find something to wear.

Eventually, he returns in a t-shirt with the Spider-Man logo blazoned across the front. It’s a little big on him, which is exactly how he prefers his clothing. The bigger they are, the more of his body they hide, and the less people will notice that Spider-Man and Peter Parker have similar physiques. The pajama pants have [astronaut cats](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51XowTCyc6L._AC_UX385_.jpg) on them, and he’s not quite convinced that these aren’t actually meant for women.

Whatever. They get the job done, and he doesn’t plan to be wearing them for long. Besides, it’s not as weird as wearing Wade’s underwear underneath them.

Peter drops onto the couch with a sigh and gives Wade a grateful smile as he brings the pizza over. “You should turn off the image inducer.”

Wade puts the cutting board in Peter’s lap and takes a seat next to him. He looks briefly surprised before glancing down at his own hands. “Oh yeah. I forgot it was on.”

“Liar.” Someone like Wade, with his attention to detail, wouldn’t overlook something like that.

The projection around him fizzles out, breaking up like static as Wade twists the dial on the watch to turn it off. His brows are pulled together when he lifts his head to look at Peter. “Is it really so weird that I like looking normal?”

“But that’s not normal.” Peter takes a bite of pizza and gives a winning, encouraging smile. “Not for you, at least. Not anymore.”

Wade presses his lips into a thin line and he looks away. “You really want to see my crater face that badly, huh?”

“The image inducer is just another mask, Wade.” Peter lays his free hand on Wade’s cheek, and his heart breaks just a little with the way Wade automatically turns his face into it, nuzzling lightly. “It’s not you, and _you’re_ the one I like hanging out with.”

“You’re a fucking weirdo, Pete.” But there’s a distinct note of affection in his voice as he curls his bulk into Peter’s side.

“I know.” Peter puts his arm around Wade’s shoulders and settles back into the couch. “Now keep playing your game before I go die in your bed.”

Wade makes an unhappy noise as he reaches for his controller again. “Don’t even _joke_ about that. You’ll give me nightmares.”

Peter polishes off the pizza, watching Wade play. He knows of the game, but he knows nothing about the storyline or what happens. It’s still fun to see how much Wade gets into it, cursing quietly at the screen every time he falls off something and dies.

As soon as the pizza is done, Wade turns the game off and takes the cutting board to the sink. They end up standing shoulder to shoulder in the bathroom, brushing their teeth together. Peter uses a brand new brush that Wade had in a stash under the sink. He chose not to question why Wade had ten of them.

While Peter uses the en suite facilities, Wade uses the main bathroom in the hall. He comes back with the Spidey-suit bundled in his arms and stuffs it under the bed to be dealt with later. And then he freezes as Peter drops the pajama pants and strips off the t-shirt.

“Uh—um—Petey?”

“I don’t like sleeping in anything more than my underwear.” Peter shrugs and throws back the blankets. “Are you coming or what?”

Wade makes the sign of the cross over his chest and takes a deep breath. “I’m just gonna—Gimme, like, five minutes in the bathroom, ‘kay?”

“Pervert.” He shakes his head and slides under the covers, sinking into the mattress with a sigh. “Just get in, and don’t make it dirty.”

After a moment of muttering unintelligibly under his breath, Wade climbs onto the bed and shimmies under the blanket. “No promises.”

His pajamas tonight have ruffles on the sleeves and sequins across the front of it. Peter briefly wonders if Ellie is wearing the same, and then figures he’ll probably find out in the morning. Right now, he just wants to shut his brain off, snuggle into the mound of pillows Wade keeps on the bed, and sleep for the next twenty-four hours.

With a happy sigh, Peter curls up on his side. “G’night, Wade.”

There’s a moment of silence before he feels Wade shift in the darkness. “Petey?”

“Yeah?” He stifles a yawn behind his hand.

“What—” Wade pauses and shifts again. “What are we?”

Crap.

Peter was expecting this at some point, but not right _now_ when he’s so ready to sleep. He groans and turns onto his back. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Judging by the quiet that follows, it’s not the answer Wade wanted. Peter sighs again and rubs a hand over his face. “I dunno, Wade. What do _you_ want to be?”

A hand drifts against his elbow. “I wanna be whatever will let you let me treasure you.” The bed shifts as he scoots a little closer. “Petey, I wanna take care of you. Wanna shower you in all the good things you deserve, make sure you’re well fed, and I wanna put you in a better place than that shithole of a shoebox you live in. I wanna—”

“Wade.” Peter reaches out blindly to cover his mouth and cut him off. “What you’re describing is a sugar daddy.”

“I would _one thousand percent_ be okay with that.”

Of course he would. Peter shakes his head and takes his hand back. “I’m not looking for a sugar daddy, Wade.”

“What about a boyfriend with monetary benefits?” He sounds hopeful, and Peter hates that he’s going to be the one to burst his bubble.

“I—” Peter bites his lip and turns onto his side to face Wade, just barely able to make out his features in the meager morning light coming in the window. “I don’t even know if I can _do_ a relationship with a guy.”

Sure enough, Wade wilts. “Oh, right.” He shrinks back, putting distance between them again. “That makes sense. I mean, all’a the stuff that happened this week just had me forgetting that you’re straight.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Peter wiggles forward, reaching for him to keep Wade from moving farther away. “I’m—I’m not _against_ it, okay? I’ll admit that there's definitely been some… _feelings_ … brought up over this last week, and I like it here with you and Ellie. I’m just—I’m not _sure_.”

Wade sucks in a sharp breath, and he moves forward, chest pressing into Peter’s outstretched hand. His heart pounds hard and fast against it. “Could we—Can we _try_?”

Peter draws away and rolls onto his back again, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes while he thinks about it. What could it hurt to try? Then he’ll know for certain and—He likes Wade and thinks he’s attractive. He knows that much. They’re great together as patrol partners, and Peter absolutely would count him as his best friend.

“Yeah, alright.” He drops his hands with a sigh. “If it works, it works. If it turns out that I can’t…”

“Then at least we tried.” Wade’s fingers skate across his shoulder. “I’m okay with that.”

“Are you sure?” Peter turns his head to look at him. “I don’t want to do anything that’s going to hurt you, Wade.”

With a laugh, Wade scoots even closer. “Petey, right now I have almost _nothing_. This is _something,_ and I’m absolutely enough of a selfish bastard to take whatever chance you’re willing to give me.” He pushes up onto an elbow and leans over Peter. “So, does this mean I can kiss you goodnight?”

Peter swallows thickly and flicks his tongue over his lips, wetting them lightly. They actually _tingle_ just thinking about kissing Wade. His heart rate picks up, and there’s a quiet thrum of _yes please_ vibrating through his veins. He barely gets a nod out before Wade swoops down without so much as an ounce of hesitation.

Wade’s lips are just as soft as Peter imagined they were, and isn’t that saying something? He _thought_ about this, and it’s good. It’s really, really good. Wade smells like the same Old Spice that Peter used in the shower, but there’s a hint of more that fills his senses and drowns out any doubt.

A hand cups his cheek, and a thumb presses lightly at his chin, rubbing against the stubble there. It pushes down, encouraging Peter to open his mouth, and, quite suddenly, there’s a tongue in his mouth, flicking across his palate and running against his own. Peter should have expected it because Wade doesn’t do anything in halves. His brain flatlines almost instantly and he gasps into Wade’s mouth, arching up into him as lightning sparks under his skin.

Any reservations he might have had are out the frikken window. Peter scrabbles at Wade’s shoulders and finds purchase on the back of his neck, pulling him closer because heck _yes_. This is good. This is _great_. He can definitely get behind this and the minty taste of the toothpaste they shared.

A groan rumbles in the back of his throat as Wade slides into place over him, covering him with his bulk. Peter never thought he’d _like_ the weight of another man on him, but, holy crap, this is actually nice? He feels safe and protected with all that muscle pressing down on him, and Peter doesn’t want it to go away.

But all good things must come to an end. Wade ends the _best kiss of his life_ with a slurp and a graze of teeth over his bottom lip. He flops back into the space next to Peter with a happy sigh. “I’ve been waiting to do that for _years_.”

All Peter can do is gasp for air, his chest heaving for every breath. It takes him a few tries to finally find his words. “Merc. With. A. _Mouth_.”

It takes Wade a second to process that, and it’s quickly followed with a booming laugh. Peter surges up and over him with a pillow in hand, trying to smother him before—Too late. The damage is done and Aurora’s barking starts up in the other room. It’s followed shortly after with Ellie’s sleepy voice.

“Morgana, _shush_! It’s too early!”

Wade wraps his arms around Peter and rolls them until he’s over him again, and then he keeps on rolling until he goes over the edge of the bed alone. He pops up on his feet with a wide smile. “Go to sleep, Petey. I’ll go take care of the munchkins.”

Peter groans and covers his own heated face with the pillow. Wade shuts the door behind him when he leaves. In the safety of solitude, Peter sinks into the pillows and takes deep breaths to try and calm himself down.

What the _heck_ kind of goodnight kiss was _that_?!

“And _you_.” Peter moves the pillow and lifts the blanket to glare down at the slight lift to the front of his underwear. “You don’t get a say in _anything_ right now.” If they had continued any longer than they did, Wade absolutely would have noticed that Peter was enjoying that kiss a lot more than he was letting on.

On the bright side, it’s looking like there is a very real possibility that he _can_ do this.

Peter barely opens his eyes as he fumbles around on the floor for the clothing he wore last night. He pulls the t-shirt over his head and stops when the tag scrapes over his nose. Groaning, he pulls his arm out of the sleeve, turns it around, and slides his arms through again. The pants were just too small to wear comfortably for long, so he grabs the next pair of sweatpants he finds in the closet.

Someone is _very_ happy in the kitchen; the whistle of a jaunty tune echoes down the hall. Peter hasn’t had his coffee yet, and he wrinkles his nose at how anyone can be so perky, even if it’s almost noon. He scratches his belly and doesn’t bother covering his yawn as he shuffles down the hall to see what’s going on. Maybe he can get some coffee in him before hitting the bathroom and scrubbing the fuzz off his tongue.

To his surprise, Domino is here again. She’s sitting at the end of the island and working on a jigsaw puzzle with Wade leaning on the counter from the kitchen side and Ellie standing on a stool on the dining room side. Aurora is sitting under the end table by the couch, chewing on a rawhide that Peter can’t remember her having before.

“G’morning, Petey!” Ellie looks up at him with a blinding smile that matches Wade’s, minus the scars, of course. She gives him a wave before looking at Wade. “ _Now_ can we have French Toast?”

“Anything for you, princess.” Wade stands up from where he was hunched over sorting puzzle pieces into colour piles. He throws a wink at Peter and turns around to start opening cupboards.

Every puzzle piece that Domino picks up seems to have a place to go. She’s building the edge of the whole puzzle quickly and efficiently while Ellie goes back to sorting. Peter watches it all for a minute before muffling another yawn and turning back to go use the bathroom. Coffee can wait; his bladder cannot.

Once he has some coffee, that’s when he’ll really wake up. For now, he’s groggy from having such a good sleep. Maybe it’s just Wade’s magical mattress. Or maybe it’s because after Wade got Ellie and Aurora settled again, he came back to bed and cuddled Peter the rest of the way to sleep. Peter was absolutely right about how nice it would be to fall asleep against that chest, and part of him wants to go back to it right this minute.

Once he’s emptied the tank and splashed some cold water on his face, Peter opens the bathroom door to go get some coffee only to come face to face with Wade. He holds out a [mug shaped like a unicorn head with the mane curved into part of the handle](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41U9WeNkJ-L._AC_SS350_.jpg).

“Sweet caffeinated nirvana for my sweetheart!”

Peter smacks his lips and wraps both hands around the mug, though it’s a little weird with the face of the horse on one side. He sways slightly on his feet because he’s still not really fully awake, and barely manages to mumble a thank you before he lifts the mug to his lips for his first sip. Wade just smiles at him and reaches up to push the hair off his forehead.

The touch is gentle and affectionate, and Peter tilts his head into it without thinking about it. A moment later, he finds himself being crowded up against the frame of the door, Wade pressing close and radiating heat. Peter’s half-asleep brain just wants to curl up into it and go right back to sleep, but Wade’s fingers are under his jaw, and his nails are scraping lightly at the stubble he hasn’t had a chance to shave yet. It feels good and Peter lifts his head at the gentle pressure.

“I’m gonna kiss you again.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Wade still leans in slowly, as if he’s giving Peter the chance to stop him if he doesn’t want it.

“I didn’t brush my teeth yet.”

Wade huffs and presses their lips together once, gently. “Like that’s gonna stop me.”

One kiss becomes two and then three. They’re all close lipped and soft— _sweet—_ and far too short. Wade steps away with a dazed smile, which isn’t fair because Peter is the one who feels like his brain just glazed over. He’s not quite satisfied yet, and he snags his hand in the front of Wade’s… dress? That’s a sundress. How did he not notice that Wade was wearing a dress?

“That looks good on you.”

It’s all he manages to get out before he hauls Wade closer so he can kiss him again, his coffee held out and away from them to keep it safe. Wade folds into him with a sigh, an arm snaking around Peter’s waist to pull them flush together. The other hand braces against the wall behind him, though Peter would prefer it be in his hair. He’s always liked having someone play with it.

They’re not quite making out, but there’s a lot of little kisses passed between. It’s a nice wake-me-up, and Peter’s free arm wraps around Wade’s shoulder, returning the kisses soundly.

Peter nearly jumps out of his skin and he spills a little coffee over his fingers when there’s a loud shout of “ _French TOAST_!” from just a few feet away. He jerks away from Wade and plasters himself against the wall, panting more from the surprise than the kisses. Wade jumps back against the other wall, his hand coming up to clutch his chest over his heart. They both look at Ellie where she’s standing only a few feet from them, her arms crossed and her small face folded in a frightening glare.

“Don’t _do_ that, pumpkin.” Wade thumps at his chest lightly. “What are you gonna do if you make my heart stop one of these times, huh?”

“I’ll just wait for you to wake up again so I can yell at you more.” Ellie shrugs and turns her squint on Peter.

She gives him a terrifying once over, as if she’s inspecting his clothing. Can she recognize that he’s wearing Wade’s clothes? Ellie is eight years old. She can’t be _that_ intuitive, can she?

Finally, she squares her shoulders and looks him dead in the eye. “Are you dating my dad?”

“I—uh—We—um—It—” Peter looks down at the little splash of coffee on the hardwood. “Uh.”

“No interrogations!” Wade quickly herds Ellie out of the hall and back to the kitchen, not looking back even once. “Interrogators don’t get French Toast!”

Peter drops his head back against the wall and takes a few moments to breathe. He’s pretty sure they weren’t going to tell Ellie anything about them just yet. It’s not like they’re really _something_ yet, are they? He doesn’t know, but now Ellie knows, and Domino is going to know shortly, probably, and this is just—

Groaning, he pushes himself off the wall and ducks back into the bathroom to get a wad of toilet paper. Peter cleans up the coffee he spilled and chucks the mess into the garbage. He catches sight of himself in the mirror. Seeing his own red face only makes him blush all the harder. And why is he smiling? Why is he _giddy_? God, he’s in his mid-thirties and he feels like a teenager who just got his first kiss.

It’s so silly, but Peter is—He’s _happy_. He’s happier than he thought he would be, and it makes him feel all warm and squishy inside to know that Wade’s probably pretty stinkin’ happy too.

He hides his smile behind the ridiculous unicorn mug as he makes his way back to the kitchen. Wade is practically dancing at the counter, humming along to whatever song is in his head. His hips are swaying to the beat, and Peter tries _very hard_ not to watch how the hem of the dress swishes around his thighs. And wow, those are some _muscular_ thighs. Have they always been like that or is Peter just noticing now because—

“You’re staring.”

Peter nearly spills his coffee again, flinching hard at the soft murmur next to him. Domino is standing at his shoulder with the pot of coffee in hand. She tilts her head and fills his cup for him without asking. All Peter can do is force a nervous smile and quickly take a seat at the island next to Ellie.

“Can—um—can I help?”

“Sort!” Ellie points at the box full of small pieces. “We’ve got a sparkly unicorn kingdom to put together, and it ain’t gonna do it on its own.” She flashes him a wide, wicked grin. “And then we’re gonna draw on it and turn it into an _apocalypse_.”

He nods along as if that makes total sense. “I call dibs on colouring in the sky on fire.”

Before he can get started, Peter chugs half his coffee to help wake himself up. He barely notices the heat on his tongue. Ellie giggles at him as he rocks his head side to side to crack his neck, adding a little more flare by rolling his shoulders and lacing his fingers together to push his arms out in front of him.

“You look like you slept well.” Domino takes her seat at the head of the island again, a [purple mug with the Pokémon Koffing on it](https://plc.s6img.com/society6/img/W_JDMFNVHVnrpwfHOXe4KFnQsNg/w_700/coffee-mugs/small/right/greybg/~artwork,fw_4600,fh_2000,iw_4600,ih_2000/s6-0019/a/7422525_7916422/~~/koffee-mugs.jpg?wait=0&attempt=0). She blows on her coffee but doesn’t look away from Peter. There’s a _knowing_ look in her eyes, but she can’t know, can she? How would she— “Isn’t that the t-shirt I got you for your birthday last year, Wade?”

“Sure is!” Wade slaps a few slices of bread into a sizzling pan. “Doesn’t Petey look good in it?” She barely hums an agreement before Wade turns to point a spatula at her. “Look, but don’t touch! I’ve got dibs.”

Domino’s eyebrows go up. “Does this mean I can start hitting on Spider-Man? Because those tights of his are just _so—_ ” She cuts off with a laugh and ducks the slice of bread that comes sailing at her head, but she still gets beaned in the face by the puzzle piece Ellie throws.

“Spidey is _off limits_!” Ellie huffs, frowning as Domino finds a place along the edge for the puzzle projectile. “He’s going to marry my dad someday. Wade said so.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Peter looks at Wade, smiling when he very pointedly does not turn around. Wade even starts humming louder, like that will somehow make it so the conversation isn’t happening. “I wonder if Spidey will let me be his best man.”

Wade snorts and turns slightly, probably to make some comment or another. He’s cut off by a sharp yip, and all heads turn to Aurora where she’s standing at the door. She turns in a circle and paws at it, whining softly.

“Time for a walk!” Ellie jumps from her stool with a heavy thump and tugs at the hem of Peter’s borrowed t-shirt. “Come with us, Petey!”

There’s no reason for him not to, even though the thought of being alone with Ellie after being caught making out with Wade is _terrifying_. Peter downs the last of his coffee and stands up. “Yeah, sure.”

Ellie is fully dressed in jeans and a long sleeved shirt with a puffy vest over top. Peter feels inadequate in his sweats and t-shirt, so he pulls his coat on to make it look a little better. He slips his shoes on while Ellie gets the leash and poop bags.

“Have fun, you two.” Wade wiggles his fingers in a wave and makes a kissing face when Peter shares a look with him before they leave.

They’re halfway down the building in the elevator when Ellie looks up at him. She’s got that calculating look that chills Peter to the _bone_. It feels like he’s being judged, and he gets enough of that from the public as Spider-Man. He keeps his eyes up, watching the numbers glow for every floor they pass, and trying _so hard_ not to give off waves of nervous energy. 

“So…” A slow start doesn’t make this any less uncomfortable. “You’re dating my dad now, huh?”

_Crap_.

“Uh—I guess so?” Peter shrugs and rubs a hand through his hair. “Kinda. I’m not really sure. We’re just—We’re figuring it out.” He glances down at her briefly. “Is—Is that okay with you?”

Ellie shrugs and starts forward when the doors open. “He likes you.”

It’s suddenly very important for Peter that Ellie accept the possibility of a relationship between him and Wade, even if she would probably prefer Spider-Man over him.

Even so, having this conversation should probably be done with Wade around. It still doesn’t change how stupidly hard Peter is blushing. “I don’t think we should talk about this right now.” He grabs Ellie’s hand when they exit the building, because Wade would probably kill him if he let her wander off while they’re together. “But, for the record, I like him too.”

She actually gives him a big, beaming grin in reply and starts leading him down the sidewalk. That must be a good thing, right? She wouldn’t be smiling at him if she didn’t _want_ him to like Wade, right? Crap. Peter is going to be thinking about this for the rest of the walk now, and they’ve barely even started!

Ellie swings their hands as they walk, their speed determined by Aurora and how often she wants to stop. Peter is fully prepared for Ellie to be grossed out about having to pick up poop, but she’s a heck of a champ and does it without hesitation.

They only go up to the end of the block and come back, because Wade had been in the midst of making breakfast when they left, and going all the way around would take too long.

“Hey, Petey?” Ellie squeezes his hand when they get on the elevator again, and there’s something in her tone that makes his stomach sink. “When’re you gonna tell me that you’re you-know-who?”

His heart just about _stops_ in his chest. Peter takes a deep breath and looks down at her with what he _hopes_ is an innocent smile. “What makes you think that?”

“I saw you.” She’s looking up at him with something a little like awe but also like she’s looking at an idiot. “I dunno what woke me up, but I heard you and my dad talking, and then you walked by my bedroom. You were dressed just like Spidey, but not wearing the mask.”

Peter had been _so tired_ last night. Is it possible he didn’t notice his spidey-senses picking up on someone looking at him? Even when it was someone without any bad intentions, he should have noticed, but he didn’t. He didn’t, and he doesn’t know what to say.

“You—” He starts and stops, bites his lip and frowns. “You were _sleeping_.”

“Nope.” She shakes her head and her high pigtails whip around her head. “I _totally_ saw you, and I don’t think you’d dress like Spidey just to make my dad happy.”

Oh, Jesus. Peter rubs a hand over his face. “Are you _sure_ you’re only eight?”

Ellie rocks back and forth on her heels. “Emily says I’m wise beyond my years. Terry says I’m a little shit.” She looks up at Peter with a wide smile. “He’s always laughing when he says it, so I know he doesn't mean it in a bad way.”

“Well, that’s—uh—good?” Peter sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Listen, I—”

“Don’t worry.” Ellie squeezes his hand tightly. “I won’t tell anyone, just like I don’t talk about Deadpool. I’m _really_ good at secrets. Promise!”

That really doesn’t make him feel any better. He wasn’t supposed to tell Ellie without talking to Wade and this might tick him off. Either way… “Thanks, Ellie.”

She _beams_ at him and stands up on her tip-toes. “Can I try the thwip-thwips?” Her other hand holds out with the index and ring finger curled in, and she acts like she’s throwing webs at various places around the elevator.

“Oh God no.” Peter shakes his head as the doors slide open on the ninth floor. “I don’t even let your _dad_ play with those.” Though that hasn’t stopped Wade from stealing them every now and then.

Ellie opens her mouth to argue, but Peter shakes his head. “Don’t bother. There’s nothing you can say that will convince me otherwise.” When she starts to pout, he lets go of her hand to pat the top of her head. “Hey, chin up, kiddo. I’m basically handing Aura over to you for the whole weekend.”

“Her name is _Morgana_.” She sniffs and looks down at Aurora.

Peter laughs and knocks on the door before trying the handle. “And what will her name be tomorrow?”

“Drusilla.” She says it so simply, like there’s nothing weird about changing the name of a dog every single day.

The apartment smells _divine_ when they walk in. Wade jumps up from where he’s waiting on the couch, a wide smile in place. “How was the walk?”

“Informative.” Peter shrugs out of his coat and kicks off his shoes. He shares a look with Ellie, and she snorts her way into laughter. Wade frowns in confusion, and Peter shakes his head. “I’ll explain later.”

Lunch, or a really late brunch given the time, is ready and waiting on the counter for them. Wade points down the hall, and Ellie, with Aurora in tow, sprints off to go wash her hands. Peter, like the smarty pants he is, just washes his hands in the kitchen sink again. A hand slides over the small of his back, and he turns his head to find Wade waiting with a towel for him to dry them.

Peter glances towards the living room where Domino has taken over the easy chair. She’s focused on some cooking show, picking her way through a half-eaten plate of French Toast sitting on a TV table in front of her. Apparently, she didn’t want to wait for them, and that’s fine with him. He is a little confused about why she’s here today. Maybe she just drops in to hang out sometimes? If she was here with intel about another mission, he’s pretty sure Wade would have told him about it by now.

But that’s a question for another time. Right now, he needs to tell Wade something very important. Peter leans in towards him, and Wade immediately closes the distance too until their foreheads are almost touching. “Ellie knows.”

Wade still carries that pinched, confused look. “I mean, she did catch us in the act, Petey.”

“Yes, but she also saw me.” When Wade still keeps staring at him, Peter sighs. “Last night. In the _suit_ , Wade.”

“Oh!” His eyes grow wide, and he looks over his shoulder. First at Domino and then down the hallway where they can hear the water running. “Holy crap. I didn’t—I’m sorry, Petey. I’ll talk to her about it. She’s really good with secrets, I promise.”

Peter leans forward enough to close the distance between them and presses a kiss to the corner of Wade’s lips. “I know. I trust her and I trust you.”

“ _Fuck_.” The word is barely a hiss, and Wade is turning into him, fitting their lips together, and stepping in like he wants to plaster himself to Peter’s front.

Domino chooses then to clear her throat loudly. “Welcome back.”

Wade jerks back a few steps and shoots her a scathing look. He covers it by continuing to turn and grabbing one of the three plates stacked on the counter. Peter can hear every word he mutters about cockblocks and freeloaders under his breath while he starts loading up the plate. It makes Peter smile, and he hangs back, just watching Wade with a warm ball of _fondness_ sitting high in his chest.

The first plate gets set aside with two sausages, two pieces of French Toast, and a scoop of mixed berries artfully sprinkled around the edge. The second plate gets three times as much, and Wade fiddles with it with his back to Peter for a few moments. When he turns around, he holds it out with his chest thrown out in pride and hands it to Peter with a grin.

Peter immediately picks up a fork and, without breaking eye contact with Wade, swipes it through the penis drawn in berries on his stack of French Toast. Wade deflates with a laugh and turns back to Ellie’s plate as she comes stampeding into the kitchen.

“Whipped cream, sweetheart?”

“ _Always_.” She grabs the prepared plate and holds it out for the can that Wade gets from the counter. He gives it a shake and covers her French Toast in a healthy dollop.

Is it weird for Peter to be a little jealous? They both have syrup, but _he_ would’ve liked some whipped cream too.

He doesn’t realize he’s pouting until Wade reaches over and tops his plate with a delicate swirl.

Ellie doesn’t hesitate to take her place in the middle of the couch at one of the empty TV tables. Peter waits until Wade has a plate of his own, and then they each take a spot on either side of her.

Once again, Peter is struck with that sense of tranquility that comes from a _family_ moment. It’s a nice, quiet day with nothing but free time ahead of them. Sure, he could go out patrolling like he normally would and spend hours upon hours swinging around the city, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. Not right now, at least.

And then what about his plans for tomorrow? He has to go have dinner with Aunt May and… Would it be weird if he invited Wade and Ellie along? That might be rushing it a bit, but he’s talked about Wade to Aunt May for _years_. She’s always wanted to meet him, especially after Peter stopped complaining about him as a nuisance and started talking about him as a good friend. And, wow, isn’t that something? It just highlights how things with Wade have been building up for a long time, and it’s just taken Peter a while to figure it out.

There’s Ellie, too, and Aunt May would _love_ her. She always hoped for grandkids and hinted at it throughout Peter’s entire marriage to Mary Jane. He knows it broke her heart when they divorced, especially since she was the one he went to for advice when it came to his crush on Mary Jane and when he was floundering in the beginning of their relationship.

Knowing Aunt May, she’s not going to bat an eye when he brings home a guy. There was a time in his childhood, when he was trying to hide that he was Spider-Man, where she absolutely thought he was just pulling away because he was gay. Going out with Gwen set her straight on that front, but not before he was given a very heavy talk about acceptance and how she loved him for who he was. At the time, he thought she meant Spider-Man, but he later learned the true reason.

Peter looks at Ellie and Wade sitting next to him, and he smiles. Part of him feels like he should be freaked out about being on the cusp of a relationship with a _guy_ , and one with a _kid_ at that. The kid part should be even freakier, given how adamant he was against having them when he was with Mary Jane. But this—It feels right. He feels _happy_ , and that’s not something he’s been for a long time. Since even before the divorce.

It’s hard not to feel a little guilty about how he’s perfectly willing to accept a relationship with Wade even though he has a kid when that was something he denied Mary Jane. This and that are two very different situations, though. Ellie is probably the safest kid in all of New York, if not the world. Her dad is frikken _Deadpool,_ and, even though he knows nothing about the Prestons, Peter is almost positive that her adoptive parents are a force to be reckoned with in their own regard. Wade would accept nothing less.

And it’s not like Wade has Ellie all the time either. It’s a week here or there, every few months or so. He has her on the weekends too, but that never really affected his patrolling times before, if only because he’s not as frequent as Peter. Sure, most of the time, he’s there at Peter’s side, but it’s not _every_ night.

It’s kind of sad that Wade doesn’t have her more often, but it also makes sense. He lives a dangerous life, and he’s not always the most steady of people. This week has given Peter a really good look at that stable side of him. He’s never seen Wade be so happy and caring before. It’s like he actually has this whole _dad_ thing under control, despite being like an overgrown kid himself most of the time.

Since Domino is here right now, Peter resolves to ask Wade and Ellie if they would like to come to dinner tomorrow later on. That’s kind of a private thing, and he doesn’t want to give Domino more information about himself than she already has. Which is silly, because she runs in the same circles as Wade. If she has his name and his face, she could probably find anything she wants on him.

That’s a scary thought. It’s probably best to stay on her good side then, both as Peter Parker and as Spider-Man. She’ll probably figure out who he is eventually, especially if Deadpool flirts it up with Spider-Man around her. Wade isn’t known to cheat, so she could do the math _really_ easily and—Okay, mark that down as another thing Peter needs to talk to Wade about.

He might be about to start dating his best friend, but he should still be cautious about giving away his alter ego, and—Holy crap. Wait. Peter is about to start dating his _best friend_. That’s—Wow. Dating. Wade Wilson.

It kinda shocks Peter’s brain into a standstill when he realizes just how okay he is with that. And with Ellie. He’s not used to kids, but he already knows that he would do anything for her—and not because he’s a little bit terrified of her. She’s smart, sassy, and all around adorable. Ellie is like a miniature Wade but without the crippling self-esteem issues.

Everything has changed so quickly within the course of a week. Peter should be used to that by now, given that his entire life was turned on its head when he was bitten by a radioactive spider. And yet he’s still left reeling over how, a week ago, he had never even considered a relationship with Wade. But here he is and, truthfully, he wouldn’t change a thing about it.

All because of the little dog currently being snuck pieces of breakfast sausage from Ellie’s plate.

God, it’s going to kill Ellie to be separated from Aurora when she goes back to school on Monday. More so since it will be the last time she sees her. Mary Jane will likely have come back to get her before the weekend, and then Aurora is going to be whisked away to California, never to be seen again.

Now _that’s_ a depressing thought, and Peter shakes his head to get rid of it. He doesn’t want that black cloud of sadness to ruin a good meal and what is sure to be an even better day.


	8. Sunday

Peter drums his fingers on his knees and glances at Wade. He dressed up today with a collared, button up shirt. Wade had freaked out about what he should wear and what he should bring, and Peter had to talk him out of wearing a top hat and tie. It’s just dinner at Aunt May’s. They don’t need to dress up for it.

Wade did, however, insist on making a cake. He surprised Peter by actually having one of those covered cake carriers to bring it in. It’s nothing fancy, just a boxed funfetti cake with premade white icing from a jar. They added some food colouring to it, and Ellie tried to use it to draw a picture of Aurora on the top of the cake, and it—Yeah, it doesn’t look good. It’s barely recognizable, but Wade and Peter praised her for doing such a good job nonetheless.

Since they had to leave the building, with the doorman waving them goodbye and everything, Wade had to wear the image inducer. It’s still up, as he prefers when he’s out with Ellie, but they won’t be in public very soon. And that’s what Peter wants to talk about.

“What are the chances I can get you to drop the inducer for dinner?”

Apparently, even Ellie knows what asking that means. She turns around to stare at him through the taxi’s divider, because she demanded to have the front seat today to feel _special_. Wade goes still, and his grip on the cake container tightens minutely.

Peter puts a hand over his. “I know you don’t like showing people the scars.” Wade’s lips press into a thin line, and he turns his head just enough to meet his eyes. Peter gives him an encouraging smile. “Aunt May is a nurse. She’s seen a lot worse than your skin, and I’ve told her about a lot. She’s been one of the few pillars of support I’ve had my whole life. May knows _everything_ about me, no matter how hard I’ve tried to keep her out of the whole thing. As it turns out, I needed her. I needed someone I could _talk_ to outside of everything.”

Wade narrows his eyes and glances back at Peter again. “Petey. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been gabbing to your aunt about your _giant man crush_ on me.”

“You say that like you’re expecting me to deny it.” Peter shrugs and leans back in his seat again. It might have taken him a while to realize it, but he’s definitely liked Wade for a lot longer than he knew. It just took him some time to get his head out of his butt—or, rather, his _mask_ —and see the truth.

In the face of Peter’s flat answer, Wade does a spectacular impression of a fish. Ellie giggles at the way he opens and closes his mouth several times.

Peter just smiles and squeezes his hand. “She knows all about you, Wade, and she’s wanted to meet you for a while. When I told her you were coming today, she said she would clear space in the umbrella holder for your katanas.” Ellie snorts harder at that. “May fully expects you to show up in your suit or out of it. She isn’t expecting—” He gestures at the image inducer face. “—this.”

That just makes Wade scowl, though there’s a flush building high in his cheeks. “Not sure I’m liking this trope of you making me comfortable about my skin.” He ducks his head and hunches over the cake, but he turns his palm over to squeeze Peter’s hand back. “I’ll think about it.”

Ellie makes the decision for them when they’re on the front steps of May’s little side-by-side townhouse. Peter is focused on fishing his keys out and finding the right one, and he doesn’t even notice her quick fingers as she reaches up and deftly removes the watch from Wade’s wrist. She steps away quickly, putting Peter between them.

Wade nearly drops the cake as he flails upwards. “Ellie, what the _hell_?!” He immediately curls in on himself and hunches closer to the wall next to the door, nearly tripping over the chair May has on her porch. “Baby girl, why you gotta do me like that? Give it back!”

“Nah.” She tucks it into her pocket. “I like you better without it.”

“It’s okay, Wade.” Peter turns to cup his cheek. “You’re going to be fine.”

But Wade doesn’t look like he believes him. He looks _vulnerable,_ and that’s just not the kind of expression someone like Deadpool should ever have. Peter kisses him quickly, hoping that distracts him.

Before Wade can argue for his watch back, the door swings open, and Aunt May is standing there in all her flushed and frail glory. Her gray hair is coming out of a messy bun, and her apron is stained in more places than it was the last time Peter saw it. He can also smell that something is burning, or has been burned, and he suddenly wishes that he’d talked Wade into bringing a casserole instead of a cake.

“Peter!” Aunt May grabs him by the face and pulls him in, kissing him loudly on the cheek. “Hello, sweetheart! Come in and introduce me!”

They get ushered into the small foyer and Peter gestures back at Wade while toeing off his shoes. “May, Wade. Wade, my aunt May.”

“I’ve heard _so_ much about you!” Aunt May doesn’t miss a beat or bat an eyelash at the scars. She just grabs Wade by the face, pulls him down to her level, and lays the same smacking kiss to his cheek. “I’m so glad he finally brought you around!”

Peter probably ruptures something while holding in his laugh, but it’s so worth it. Wade is the definition of gobsmacked; mouth hanging open and eyes wide, staring at Aunt May like she just took a bite out of him. It’s such a rare look and Peter’s hand twitches for his phone, tempted to take a picture.

But then Ellie clears her throat, and Aunt May turns to her with the biggest smile. “And _you_ must be Ellie!” She crouches down to her height, creaking a little in the process. “I only just heard about you yesterday, but Peter seems to think the world of you. Is that true?”

An honest-to-goodness _blush_ fills Ellie’s face, and she looks down at the rug, scuffing her toe against it shyly. “I guess so. I _am_ pretty awesome.”

“She definitely is.” Peter hangs up his coat and takes the cake from Wade so he can do the same.

And, because he feels like it would be _hilarious_ , he abandons all three of them to go put the cake away in the kitchen. It’s also an excuse to find out if there’s a potential fire hazard in the making. Sure enough, there’s a blackened pan soaking in the sink and a distinctly smoky edge to the air in the kitchen.

Sighing, Peter clears a space on the counter for the cake, and he opens the window over the sink to try and air the place out a bit. “Hey, May? What are we having for dinner?”

“Well, I was going to try and make this [honey mustard chicken](https://www.cookwithcampbells.ca/recipe/2-step-honey-mustard-chicken/) recipe I found, but then—” He can hear her heave a great sigh. “So, I found a frozen casserole in the freezer and figured we could have that instead!”

“You mean this one you have thawing on the counter?” Peter pokes the box sitting next to the stove and finds that it’s still very frozen, with frost still clinging to the edges and everything.

Aunt May gasps and comes rushing back into the room, causing more flyaways to fall out of her bun. “Oh no! I forgot to put it in the oven!”

“You forgot to preheat the oven too.” He points at the readout on the back of the stove, showing that it’s currently off. Knowing this hunk of junk, it’ll probably take a good twenty minutes or more to heat up, and then the casserole box says it takes almost sixty minutes to cook through. That’s an hour and a _half_ at least, and he knows for a fact that they can order in for half the time. “Looks like we’re going to be ordering in tonight.”

“I’m so sorry, dear.” Aunt May makes a face at the pan in the sink and starts trying to fix her hair. “That Meryl from down the road called, and I just got so distracted. I told her I had to go, but you know how she is. She won’t shut up, and I couldn’t just _hang up_ on her. I mean, I did after the alarm went off, but—”

Peter smiles and pulls her into a comforting hug. “Don’t worry about it. What you should worry about is how we’re going to decide what to eat.”

He looks up to find Wade and Ellie kind of hovering together near the doorway from the living room, Aurora clutched to Ellie’s chest. They both have a bit of a shell-shocked look to them, and Peter has a strong suspicion that neither knows how to handle the May Parker Experience.

Obviously, Wade is still struck dumb from the greeting, and Aunt May must have fawned over how adorable Ellie is to the point that she couldn’t compute anymore. The way Wade is hanging back, quiet and watching them, is very unlike him, and Peter isn’t sure if he should be amused or weirded out.

“So, what are we ordering in?” Peter gives them a smile. “Any suggestions?”

Ellie shakes herself out and lights up excitedly. “Pizza!”

“I think Indian would be nice.” Aunt May hums thoughtfully to herself. “But I would be fine with whatever everyone else wants.”

Peter thinks about it. “I dunno. I’m kinda feeling Chinese. What about you, Wade?”

All eyes turn to Wade, even Aurora, and he blinks out of his stupor. A wide grin spreads, and Aunt May sighs, leaning into Peter’s side. “If all your stories have taught me anything, I’m going to guess that he wants Mexican.”

“May, my fine woman, you are _absolutely_ correct.” The twinkle is back in Wade’s eye, and he already has his phone out to start ordering. “It’s really the only good food there is.”

“Agree to disagree.” Peter presses a kiss to Aunt May’s temple and steps away. He roots through one of the drawers before he surfaces with four plastic straws, some of which have seen better days. After snipping one of them shorter than the rest, he mixes them up behind his back and hides their lengths in his fist. “You guys all know the name of the game. Short straw picks dinner.”

Ellie grabs his wrist to pull him down, and she lifts Aurora up under her front legs to make her pick, taking whichever one Aurora sniffs the most. She immediately hides the end and Aunt May does the same when she pulls her. Wade makes a show of examining the straws closely, humming and hawing as he pretends to measure them with his thumb.

Peter rolls his eyes and makes the choice for him, removing one and holding the other out for him. “This is yours.”

“No, no. I want the _other_ one.” Wade reaches for it, and Peter lets him take it, otherwise they’re never going to get around to ordering, and he’s getting _hungry_.

On the count of three, they all reveal the length of the straw. Aunt May waves hers around happily. “Looks like we’re having _Indian_!”

“I want the _cheesy_ naan!” Ellie grabs at Wade’s hand and pulls. “I can have it, right?”

“We’ll order the whole gosh-darn-diddly menu.” Wade is already focused on his phone, presumably pulling up Uber Eats or whatever it is that he always uses. Peter never questions the methods that put food in his belly.

“Oh, hold on. I’ll get you my credit card.”

Aunt May goes for her purse where it’s sitting on the junk table in the corner of the kitchen. Wade takes one big step and plants himself between her and it. “Nope, not happening, May-flower. This is gonna be my treat.” When she tries to argue, he just shakes his head and holds up a finger. “If anyone has any special requests, say ‘em now or I’mma just get a little bit of everything.”

Once the order is placed, Wade is treated once again to a big kiss on the cheek. Aunt May pats him on the other cheek and fixes him with her winning smile. “You’re every bit as good as Peter says you are.”

Peter and Ellie end up having to guide Wade into the living room after that. He’s more or less checked out, staring blankly at Aunt May like he can’t believe what he heard. Shouldn’t he be used to this by now? Or—Wait. Does Peter not tell him how good he is? He can’t remember. He _thinks_ it, certainly, but does he share that with Wade?

Right then and there, Peter resolves to tell Wade more positive things about himself more often. He deserves to hear it.

As soon as they’re seated, with Ellie electing to put a pillow on the floor for herself, Aurora breaks away from her and beelines right to Aunt May. She yips as she turns in excited circles at her feet, and then drops to sit. One little paw comes up to rest delicately on Aunt May’s ankle, and she’s instantly rewarded with a treat. Peter watches, jaw dropped, as Aunt May pulls another little nibble from the holder hanging over the arm of her chair. Normally that’s where she puts her knitting needles, remote controls, or magazines. Today it apparently holds _dog treats_.

“May…” Peter squints suspiciously between her and Aurora. There’s a familiarity there that he noticed last weekend too, but he had been too depressed about Mary Jane moving away to really think about it much. “Has MJ been visiting you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A few times a month, I suppose.” She looks at him over her glasses. “She grew up next door, Peter. I’ve known Mary Jane as long as she’s been alive, and that’s a friendship that doesn’t go away just because you two got a divorce.”

Surprisingly, that doesn’t bother him. It might have a few weeks ago, but now? Now there’s just a little pulse of sadness, but it’s nowhere _near_ as bad as it could be. And Peter knows the exact reason why.

“It’s okay, May.” He puts his hand on Wade’s knee lightly. “I’m over it.”

Barely a beat of silence passes before Wade makes a swooning gasp. One hand goes to his forehead, and he fakes fainting right across Peter’s lap. “Oh, be still my beating heart!”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Dad, don’t embarrass me.”

“Or me.” Peter looks down at him, but he can’t help smiling at the way Wade is just _beaming_ up at him.

“Can’t help it, Petey. You touched my _knee_.” Wade makes no effort to get up. If anything, he situates himself _more_ across Peter’s lap as he lifts his leg into the air and gestures at it. “How’s a man not supposed to swoon when you do something like _that_?”

Aunt May giggles, and they both look at her, though Wade has to twist slightly to do it. “I remember the days when Ben would swoon for me like that.” She puts a hand to her cheek with a sigh, eyes distant with memories. After a moment, she focuses on them again with a fond smile. “Is this why you decided to bring guests today, Peter?”

His ears start to warm, and Peter looks down at his lap. Wade is looking up at him with a cheeky grin and hopeful eyes, scars shifting across his face, and all Peter can do is smile back. “Yeah. This is why.”

“That’s fantastic!” Aunt May claps her hands together a few times before pushing herself to her feet. “I’m breaking out the wine to celebrate!”

“May, I don’t drink.” Peter sighs and slumps back into the couch cushions. “And with our super metabolisms, alcohol wouldn’t—”

She tutts and shakes her head at him, crossing the room to the little cupboard above one of her display cases of various tchotchke and knick-knacks. It was the unofficial liquor cabinet that Peter was never allowed to touch growing up. “That doesn’t mean _I_ can’t have some.”

Ellie sits up a little straighter, eyes a little brighter. “Can I—”

Peter knows where that question is going and he shakes his head. “No.”

At the same time, Wade nods in his lap. “Only one sip.”

They look at each other in surprise, and all Peter can do is shrug. In his opinion, children shouldn’t be allowed alcoholic substances at all. But Ellie is Wade’s daughter, and if that’s what he wants to allow, then he can’t really argue. It’s not like Uncle Ben didn’t let him have a sip of beer once when he was young. It was awful, and Peter spat it right back into the bottle, and then was promptly sent off to get Uncle Ben another beer. They laughed about it then, but he hasn’t had another drop of alcohol since.

That said, he’s actually not sure how well his system would metabolize alcohol. But, given how quickly Peter burns through pain medications and has to take an absurd amount to the point where most would risk overdosing, he can make a logical leap.

“I’ll take a glass so you’re not drinking alone, May.” Wade takes his time sitting up, clearly not wanting to. He stays close, leaning heavily into Peter’s side and all but forcing him to spread his arm across the back of the couch. With a distinctly _pleased_ wiggle, Wade squirms right up against him, grinning widely.

“Thanks, May-flower.” Wade accepts the glass of wine she brings back for him, and then immediately offers it to Ellie.

Aurora pops to her feet as Ellie gets up and follows her over with her little tail wagging. Ellie takes one sniff of the glass and backs up sharply with her hand over her nose. “That smells _gross_.”

“But it tastes so good!” Wade laughs and takes a long sip. “Ah, now you can’t have any unless you want backwash cooties.”

“Ew, you’re the _worst_!” Ellie makes a gagging noise and goes back to her pillow. “Drusilla’s breath smells better than that.” She gathers Aurora up into her lap.

Peter would be amused, if the moment wasn’t immediately followed by one of his worst nightmares. Aunt May turns to Wade and actually strikes up a conversation. They’re _chatting_. He should have expected this, since Wade loves to talk and Aunt May collects gossip like it’s going out of style. Doesn’t make this any less terrifying.

Ignoring his expression of mild horror, Aunt May drags up every story involving Deadpool that Peter has ever told her over the years. Wade, also ignoring the pained noises from next to him, more than happily corroborates the stories and gives his side. He’s even brutally honest about some of the more gruesome aspects, though he does sugar-coat it for Ellie’s sake. Aunt May isn’t fazed in the slightest, simply nodding and smiling as she asks more questions.

There’s only so much Peter can put up with. After three different stories, he moves to the floor, and Ellie finds a ball in her backpack. They sit on opposite ends of the living room and take to rolling it back and forth between them. Aurora trips over her own paws racing after it, trying to catch it before it reaches their outstretched hands.

It’s not a lot, but it’s entertaining and keeps Peter distracted enough not to pay any attention to Aunt May and Wade gabbing together like they’ve known each other their whole lives. He’s less bothered by it when they move off of topics involving him. Peter has never liked people talking about him, and even less so when it’s his… his… Uh. Boyfriend? Partner? Hm. He has no idea what to call what they are.

“What’s that?” Ellie points suddenly to the bookshelf framing one side of the television. She almost throws the ball at Peter and crawls over to it. “Whose is this?!” From between a mass of photo albums and copies of May’s magazines, Ellie pulls out a familiar comic book.

“Oh, that’s mine.” Peter moves over to her, watching over her shoulder as she flips through the old pages. “That should probably be put back upstairs with the rest.”

She twists to look at him, eyes big and bright. “You have _more_?”

“Y’wanna see?”

The way she hops up and starts for the stairs in the hall is answer enough. Peter waves off the curious look from Wade and heads off after her. Aurora comes with, but the stairs aren’t carpeted, and she has issues with going up them. He has to pick her up and carry her to the second floor where he finds Ellie standing in front of his old bedroom door.

“It’s this one, right?” She points at the closed door. There are only four doors up here—one being a folding door that’s clearly a linen closet. Of the other three, two are open, and they’re obviously May’s bedroom and the bathroom.

“Yup.” Peter puts Aurora down and opens the door for her. “Welcome to my Cave of Nerd.”

Ellie gasps loudly and steps in. “Dad always said Spidey was a huge nerd. Can’t believe he wasn’t lying.”

She looks around at the models of the USS Enterprise, Millennium Falcon, and Death Star hanging from the ceiling. There’s an unfinished Star Destroyer sitting on his desk that Peter really should get around to completing one of these days. His posters of Captain America and Iron Man are still on the walls, right up alongside Albert Einstein, the periodic table, and the poster for the science symposium at OsCorp where he was bitten by the spider.

Everything else of significance, however, is boxed. All his books and his microscope and telescope are all tucked away and ready to move with him. It’s all the stuff he couldn’t bring himself to sell after his divorce, and Aunt May was kind enough to let him store it all here in his old bedroom.

“Where are your comics?” Ellie bounces over to the boxes and tilts her head to start trying to read the chicken scratch scribbled on the sides.

“Right here.” Peter lifts two boxes off the stack with one hand and uses his foot to push the bottom box out into the middle of the room.

Ellie falls on it, pulling at the tabs on the top to flip them open. She claps her hands to her cheeks in a very Deadpool-like way when she finds the treasure trove inside. Every comic book that Peter scrimped and saved his pocket change to buy is stacked carefully in this box, each one in a plastic sleeve. To be fair, more than half of them came from Harry. He would buy it, read it once, and give it to Peter because he never bothered with rereading things. Peter was never sure if that was true or just some weird form of charity.

“I’ve never even _seen_ this one before!” Ellie pulls one of the original Captain America comics out, staring at it reverently. “Even _Dad_ doesn’t have this one.”

“Yeah, that was a gift from a friend.” Peter carefully digs through the pile and pulls out a handful. “These ones I actually bought. The rest were gifts.”

She tunes him out after that, dropping to sit cross-legged so she can read. Peter leaves her to it and starts poking around in the other boxes, wanting to refresh himself on what he has. He finds one holding all his textbooks and binders full of notes for various experiments he had been working on before he was forced to drop out of university. Peter sighs and flips through some of the notes, wishing for what never was.

He jumps in surprise when Ellie leans over his elbow to get a look at the formulas on the page. “What’s that?”

“A different life.” Peter sighs and puts it back in the box. “I’m not _just_ a nerd, y’know? I’m pretty geeky too. I love science, but I can’t afford the classes to get into that field like I originally wanted.” He shrugs and picks up one of the textbooks. “I should probably sell these. They might still be a current enough version for students to use.”

But then Ellie is pulling all the textbooks out, and she’s flipping through them with the same kind of interest that she had in the comic books. She starts asking questions about the different branches of science that Peter was interested in, and how he makes his webbing, and Peter realizes pretty quickly that Ellie is smarter than she lets people believe. No, it’s more than that. She’s _brilliant_.

The more Peter answers her, the more questions she has for him. It’s incredibly impressive, given her age, and he can’t help but see a bit of himself in her. She’s even impressed by his scholastic achievements when she finds a handful of award certificates and medals.

“Hey, y’know, if you ever have any questions about your schoolwork, you can always ask me.” Peter leans back against the cabinet under his desk, watching Ellie as she flips through the textbooks with actual interest in her eyes. “I gave you my number, so just text or call me whenever, and I’d be happy to help.”

“I don’t really need help with school.” Ellie shrugs and reaches for another book. “Don’t ask Dad or Emily about that. They’ll say something else.”

Peter frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“My grades aren’t great.” She starts to absently pet Aurora while going through the new book. “And the teachers say it’s cuz’ I don’t pay attention in class.” Ellie shrugs again and tucks a stray curl behind her ear. “If they made things actually _interesting_ , then maybe I wouldn’t get so bored. But it’s all really boring. I dunno why they get so mad when I’m not working in class, but I’m passing all my tests.”

“Hmm…” If that’s the case, Peter makes a mental note to talk to Wade about it. He can talk to Ellie’s adoptive parents, and maybe all of them can talk to the school. If Ellie isn’t being challenged enough, that could attribute to her boredom and being disruptive.

“I know you lied, by the way.”

Peter blinks back to focusing on her. “About what?”

“Your aunt being allergic to Drusilla.” Ellie doesn’t even look up, continuing to pet Aurora with one hand and flipping through the textbook with the other. “You just wanted an excuse to leave her with me while you went out as Spider-Man.”

“Y’caught me.” He laughs and leans his head back against the desk. “I don’t like lying, but I need to do a lot of it to keep my identity a secret.”

She shrugs and glances up at him with a smile. “White lies that don’t hurt people are okay.”

Movement at the door catches Peter’s eye, and he swallows down his reply. He looks over to find Wade leaning against the frame, eyes soft and a smile on his lips.

Wade gestures over his shoulder. “Food’s here.”

“Yes!” Ellie jumps up and runs out of the room with Aurora hot on her heels. There’s a pause at the top of the stairs before she goes stomping down.

Peter gathers up the comics and the books, and he puts them all away where they belong. If he can, he’ll see to it that Ellie gets to take at least the comics with her. He’s more than happy to lend them out to a fellow nerd, and he trusts she’ll take care of them the way they’re meant to.

He leaves the box separated from everything else and gets up to go follow. Wade stops him with a hand on his elbow, and Peter finds himself quickly pressed up against the door. Even though he’s _expecting_ a kiss, he still sucks in a sharp breath of surprise before Wade’s lips are on his. It’s a hard, insistent kiss—tongue flicking across his palate in just the right way to make his knees go weak. Peter can barely keep up, clutching at the back of Wade’s shirt and holding on for dear life as he’s kissed for all he’s worth.

Embarrassingly enough, Peter almost _whines_ when Wade draws back a moment later. “I think my favourite thing in the world is seeing my baby and my boo together like that.” Wade grins and rubs his thumb over Peter’s bottom lip.

The kiss was far too short, and he wants _more_ , but Wade is the one who forces himself to step away, quickly putting half the hallway between them. There’s a hunger in his eyes that makes Peter’s stomach go tight and his throat run dry. His lips are tingling, and he’s sure that he has a glassy look in his eyes because it feels like his brain is fried after something like that.

“Stop looking at me like that, Petey. I’m _notoriously_ bad with my self-control.” Wade takes a deep breath and rubs a hand over his face. “If you’re not careful, we’re not going to make it back downstairs to eat.” He looks at him through his fingers and swallows thickly. “And right now I just wanna drag you to that bed and show it the fun you never gave it as a kid.”

Peter feels lightheaded even as all the blood rushes to his cheeks. He staggers in place and starts towards the stairs, because if he doesn’t get moving, he’s absolutely going to defile his childhood bed, and he’s not going to have _any_ issues with that—even with Aunt May and Ellie downstairs.

It’s a miracle that neither of them trips over their own feet on the way down. Peter knows he looks like a tomato, and he can’t meet Aunt May’s eyes when he steps into the kitchen. She’s humming away happily, almost dancing with Ellie as they open all the containers and line them up along the kitchen counter like a buffet.

“Ladies first!”

Wade gestures for Aunt May to go through ahead of them. He waits until she’s most of the way along the line before he goes through with Ellie, holding the plate for her and putting a little bit of the things she points at on it. They have to stop for her to taste-test here or there, but Peter doesn’t mind waiting.

He hangs back and watches them, smiling privately to himself. Aunt May slows down and shows Ellie the ones that she likes, and even splits a samosa with her while claiming that it’s just too big for a little old lady like herself to finish on her own.

This is really something Peter could get used to. He likes seeing Wade and Ellie fit right into his family with Aunt May. It’s like they belong, and it’s just—It’s perfect. It’s more than he could have asked for, and Peter is just _really happy_ with all of this.

Aurora is weaving back and forth between Wade’s ankles, hopping along behind Ellie and whining quietly in hopes of being given a taste of her own. She should probably get out of the way, and she definitely shouldn’t be allowed to have any of this seasoned food. Peter decides to deal with the situation himself. He grabs a spare bowl and the baggy of food they brought, and Aurora comes running as soon as the kibble rattles into it.

She dives face first into the bowl the moment he he puts it down in a corner of the kitchen that would keep her out of the way. It’s not a very big room, and most of it is taken up by the round little table where Peter ate his meals everyday for half his life. Aunt May takes her usual seat, and Wade gets Ellie set up to her left, slapping a big naan right across the top of her plate.

Then it’s finally Peter’s turn and he steps up to the start of the line, only to see that Wade has decided that it’s his turn too. He starts at the other end, and they meet in the middle, elbowing each other out of the way while vying for the fattest samosa. Wade takes most of the meat from some of the dishes before Peter can get to it, and they end up not even having the same things on their plates by the time they’re done.

By unspoken agreement, since their plates aren’t big enough for everything they want, they compromise to pick off each other’s plates when they sit at the table together. They pull their chairs together and sit shoulder to shoulder, reaching over one another as they start eating. Peter is used to it, really. He’s shared food with Wade like this a hundred times before. He would order spaghetti dinners, and Wade would get a pizza, and they would share it on some rooftop somewhere because why bother with actual dishes.

Conversation continues over dinner. They listen to what Aunt May did today at the hospital with Ellie asking a never ending amount of questions with all the awed enthusiasm deserved. Wade and Peter nod along and listen, though they’re both mostly focused on food. It’s the curse of the high metabolism that fuels their mutations.

Ellie launches into an enthusiastic discussion about what kind of clothing Aurora should wear, and about how she deserves little booties to keep her paws clean on rainy days. She talks about making matching costumes for Halloween, even though that’s _months_ away. Peter almost loses his appetite in that moment, and he shares a heavy look with Wade.

What Ellie is talking about is _long term_ , and she doesn’t seem to realize that their time with Aurora is very limited. It’s going to break her heart when she has to go to school tomorrow morning and back to her adopted family after. And Aurora goes home with Mary Jane some time this week. Tomorrow morning is going to be the last they’re going to see of each other, and Peter is _not_ looking forward to when Ellie realizes that.

Honestly, it makes him a lot sadder than he thought it would. As much as he’s enjoyed this last week, he’s also had a heck of a time with Aurora. She’s made him feel _so_ much better about himself and gave him a reason not to spend all his free time as Spider-Man, gave him a reason to go _home_. She’s so cute and entertaining, and Peter hasn’t been half as depressed as usual. He attributes it entirely to Aurora and how she accidentally brought Wade and Ellie into his life.

“You look like you’re thinkin’ big thoughts there, Petey.” Wade nudges him with his shoulder, voice low enough that only Peter can hear it. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Peter leans into Wade’s side, eyes unfocused as a plan starts to unfurl in his head. “Just thinking about something important.” Like how he can keep this little family together, Aurora included.

They stagger as a group into Wade’s apartment, Ellie already yawning and Aurora almost asleep on her feet. Even Peter is exhausted after the evening they just had.

Dinner was great, and Aunt May broke out a Deep ‘N Delicious chocolate cake for dessert. And then, much to Peter’s horror, she pulled out baby pictures because she is _pure evil_. Peter loves her dearly, but did she _have_ to do that? Wade even took pictures of the pictures, fawning over the naked baby butt in the tub and pointing out that Peter _still_ has a bubble butt as a man in his mid-thirties. Because that’s something normal you should talk about.

After dessert, they had taken Aurora for a walk, all four of them. Wade had let Aunt May hold his arm, and Peter held Ellie’s hand, swinging it when she wanted to swing it, and doing the hopscotches together that they found chalked into the sidewalks. Wade did them too, but Aunt May’s knees aren’t good enough for that. She did enjoy seeing them do it, though, clapping and cheering them on.

It was probably one of the best evenings at Aunt May’s that Peter has had in a while. Not that time with her isn’t always great. Now he’s ready for bed, even though that’s a _long_ ways off. Spider-Man still needs to head out tonight, which means Peter needs some _caffeine_.

Wade bustles Ellie off to go start getting her stuff ready for tomorrow, and Peter brews himself a half-pot of coffee. He ends up tucked against Wade’s side on the couch, Wade’s arm around his shoulder and his hand lightly combing through his hair. It’s a soft, almost petting kind of motion, and it feels _really good_.

Peter sips at his coffee and marvels at how comfortable he is with all this. Has he just been desensitized over the years to how touchy-feely Wade is? There have definitely been cold winter nights, when his seasonal suit isn’t doing a good enough job keeping him warm, where he’s used Wade like a walking heater. And he _has_ gotten pretty lax on all the hugging and touching over the years. It’s just the groping and heavy petting he’s been against.

Up until now.

He soaks up the heat radiating through Wade’s clothes, enjoying the bitter taste of the coffee, and he feels warm for a whole different reason while watching Ellie. She’s sitting on the floor in front of them, going through her bags to make sure that she has everything she needs. Aurora is sitting next to her, giving each item a sniff before it gets tucked away into her rolling suitcase. It has Black Widow plastered menacingly across its plastic cover.

He watches Ellie tell Aurora where she got each article of clothing or where Wade bought her such-and-such thing. It’s really too sweet, and Peter knows in that moment that he would do anything for her.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” Peter slips away from Wade’s side, feeling instantly cold even though it’s almost June. “Gotta go make a phone call.”

“Take your time.” Wade blows him a kiss, and Ellie ignores him completely.

_< < MJ, we need to talk._

He fires off the message on his way to the bedroom, using his foot to close the door behind him. Peter has barely sat on the edge of the bed before his phone is ringing. It’s way earlier on the West Coast, but he can always trust her to answer, even after the divorce.

“ _What’s up, Tiger?_ ” Mary Jane actually sounds concerned when he picks up the call. “ _You used actual punctuation. That makes me think this is serious._ ”

“It kinda is.” He puts his coffee on the nearest side table and flops backwards onto the mattress. “Listen. I—I know what’s really going on. I know you’re moving.”

Mary Jane sighs, but she doesn’t sound put out by that. “ _I knew you would’ve found out sooner or later. Pete, I know this is going to be hard on you—_ ”

“Actually—” He cuts her off and almost finds himself smiling. “Yeah, it’ll be weird not having you here in New York, but I’m—MJ, I’m moving on. I’m doing better.”

A stunned silence follows that, probably because she just saw him last week and he didn’t look like he was doing so great then. But that was before he had Aurora to take care of and before Wade and Ellie brought so much _light_ into his life. A week ago feels like a year. Some small part of him still feels sad, because of course he’s going to love Mary Jane for the rest of his life, but he’s happy. Peter is honestly _happy_.

“ _You are_?” Mary Jane sounds doubtful, but he can hear the smile in her voice. “ _Is there someone else, Peter? Is it someone I know?_ ”

There’s only one answer to both questions. “Yeah.”

She hums softly, making the line crackle between them. “ _Is it Deadpool?_ ”

Peter jerks his phone away from his ear to stare at it a moment, and then he puts it back. “How in the _heck_ did you -”

“ _Oh please_.” Mary Jane actually has the audacity to laugh. “ _There is literally no one else that you spend as much time with as Deadpool. And the worst kept secret in New York is that Deadpool has the world’s biggest crush on Spider-Man. It was honestly only a matter of time before he got you_.”

And, of course, Peter talked about Wade almost non-stop in the months leading up to the end of the marriage. In fact, if he went back and calculated it, he probably spent more time with Wade than his own wife. Which isn’t the greatest of signs, but it should have tipped him off.

“Yeah.” He rubs a hand over his face, but can’t wipe away his smile. “He wore me down.”

“ _That’s really sweet. I’m happy for you, Tiger_.” To her credit, she does sound sincere. “ _Though I am a little surprised that it’s a guy you’re going for next, especially since you never had any interest in all those times I wanted to try pegging your bubble butt._ ” She heaves a disappointed sigh. “ _At least you let me try my fingers that one time, but **—**_ ”

Peter flushes scarlet and groans loudly to interrupt her. “This isn’t what I wanted to talk about, MJ.”

She laughs again, but quickly sobers. “ _Is everything okay? Did something happen to Aurora?_ ”

“Aside from a certain someone falling in love with her and me not wanting to break their heart?” Peter drops his hand to stare up at the ceiling. He doesn’t want to tell Mary Jane about Ellie, not after he promised Wade that he wouldn’t tell a soul that Deadpool has a family. Aunt May doesn’t count, but Mary Jane isn’t going to be living here anymore. That changes things.

Confusion fills her voice. “ _Deadpool_?”

“Yeah.” Peter hates lying to her, but he has to. “Just… Aura helped bring us closer, and he’s bonkers for her. And I just...” How the heck is he supposed to _ask_ her this?

“ _Peter_.” Her voice goes flat. “ _Are you asking to **keep my dog**?_”

Crap. That’s not good.

He sits up so he can slump over and rest his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Peter pinches the bridge of his nose and tries his best to sound as _sincere_ as physically possible. “It’s not even because Aura is the direct reason that Wade and I got over whatever hurdle it was that was keeping us from this. It’s—MJ, having someone to care for really—”

This is so much harder than he thought it would be. Peter also didn’t expect to get so choked up. There’s a tightness in his throat, a fear that he’s not going to be able to convince her, and it’s going to _crush_ Ellie, which will crush both him and Wade too.

“I don’t want to keep Aura just to hurt you, MJ. You gotta believe me on that.” He rubs his hand over his mouth and sits up a little more. “And I don’t want her just because Wade adores her. It’s for me too.” Peter takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. “I’m doing _better_ , MJ.”

She’s quiet for a long time. So long that Peter actually checks his phone to make sure that the call didn’t drop.

“ _Can I think about it?_ ”

Hey, thinking about it is better than he could have hoped for right now.

“Yeah, yes, of course. I wouldn’t just—I’m not _demanding_ anything right now. I’m asking nicely. For me, and for Wade, and—” Peter bites his lip before he can mention Ellie’s name.

“ _I get it, Pete._ ” Mary Jane almost sounds _amused,_ and that scares him just as much as the emotionless tone from before. “ _Listen. I’m not due back to New York until Wednesday. Do you think you can wait until then for my answer? We’ll meet up, have a coffee, and talk about this._ ”

Peter almost feels relieved, and he’s not sure if he should be. “Of course. That’d be great.”

“ _Okay_.” Mary Jane sounds about as at odds with this situation as he does. She sighs, and Peter gets the distinct feeling that he might have just ruined her day. “ _I’ll see you later, Peter._ ”

Oof. His whole name. She’s definitely not happy with him.

“Bye, MJ.” He hangs up and tosses his phone on the side table, vaguely realizing that this is unofficially his side of the bed.

Peter rubs both hands over his face and ignores the tingle of his spidey-sense at the back of his mind—and promptly regrets it two seconds later as he’s tackled from behind. Ellie’s small arms wrap around his shoulders, followed up by Wade’s scars and muscles. Wade lifts them both together and drops them down into the pillows. He throws a leg over Peter’s, squishing Ellie between them as he hugs them both tightly.

Somewhere over the edge of the bed, Aurora is barking her little head off, her claws skittering across the hardwood. It’s a big jump for her to get up here, and Peter doesn’t think she’s going to manage it... until a cloud pops up at the edge of his vision. A wet tongue flicks across his cheek as Aurora bounces over them, clambering over Wade’s and Ellie’s arms to get in on all the apparent excitement.

With a sigh, Peter turns his head only for his cheek to bump Wade’s nose as he nuzzles into it. “I’m assuming you two were eavesdropping?”

“Hell yeah, we were.” The nuzzle is followed up with a kiss to his cheek, and a forehead bumping against his temple. “You’re the best, Petey.”

“Just—” He wiggles enough to free a hand and turn over to face both of them. It creates a little crevice between him and Ellie, and Aurora falls right into it. Peter puts a hand on Ellie’s head as she curls an arm around Aurora. “Just keep in mind that MJ could say ‘no’. Aura is her dog, and she has every right to keep her.”

Wade worries at his bottom lip for a moment. “What if I offer to pay for all the costs she’s ever spent on Octavia?” He sits up to start reaching for Peter’s phone. “Tell her that. Maybe it’ll help her make up her mind.”

“Later.” Peter catches Wade’s hand and draws it down to rest over his waist. “And I’m going to offer to return the money she paid me to watch her.” As much as it’ll pain him and his bank account, he would rather be broke as heck again than break Ellie’s heart.

“I’ll cover any bill for Agatha for the rest of forever.” Wade’s fingers tighten on his hip, and he grins widely over Ellie’s ponytail. “I promise!”

Ellie sighs loudly and shoves her head back to knock him in the chin. “It’s Drusilla!”

Mischief fills Wade’s face and he looks down at her. “Margaret?”

“Dru. Sil. La.”

He hums. “Oh, I see. _Abigail_.”

In a flurry of movement, Ellie is up and straddling Wade’s chest with a pillow in hand. She starts smacking him with it, and Peter grabs Aurora to keep her out of the mix, laughing as Wade puts up a pathetic struggle. Ellie pretends to smother him with the pillow, and Wade flails a little before going limp. His tongue is hanging out of his mouth, and his eyes are rolled back when she lifts the pillow to check that she’s won.

For a moment, Ellie manages a grin in victory. It’s quickly lost to a squeal of surprise as Wade surges up to wrap her in his arms. He covers her face in sloppy kisses, Ellie shrieking with laughter. Aurora squirms in Peter’s arms, wanting to jump to her defense. Peter rolls off the edge of the bed, making sure to keep a good grip on her.

Wade finishes his assault by blowing a raspberry against Ellie’s cheek. She slaps at him, laughing the whole while, and she squeals piercingly loud as he throws her over his shoulder and gets to his feet. Peter follows along, grinning at her as she kicks and beats at Wade’s back with her little fists all the way down the hall to the living room. There, Wade tosses her onto the couch, and she nearly bounces right off the cushions.

Peter has just put Aurora down so she can finally check on Ellie’s safety when Wade’s phone starts trilling his doorbell ringtone. Wade answers it and his brows go up. He glances at Peter. “Yeah, sure. Send him up.”

“It’s Dopinder, right?” Peter tugs at the hem of his shirt to straighten it out.

“Uh huh.” Wade tucks his phone away and narrows his eyes at Peter. “I didn’t ask him to come by. Did _you_?”

Yes, he most definitely did. By the time they left May’s place, Peter had forgotten all about wanting to take the box of comics for Ellie. They were halfway home when he remembered, and he sent off a text to Dopinder to ask him to go back and get it in secret since he wanted it to be a surprise.

Instead of answering, Peter finds his wallet and takes a couple bills out because he promised he would pay Dopinder for the round trip. He hums and ignores the two pairs of curious eyes on him as he waits at the door. As soon as he hears footsteps stop on the other side, he checks through the peephole before opening it.

“Thanks, Dopinder.” Peter exchanges the cash for the box and turns around to carry it over to the rest of Ellie’s stuff. “I really appreciate this.”

“Anything for a good friend of DP.” Dopinder steps in after him and closes the door.

Ellie gives him a wave, but she’s much more interested in what Peter is doing. She leaps off the sofa to land on her knees by the box, hands dropping to rest on it gently. “What is this?” She looks up at Peter, eyes wide. “Is it a bomb?”

It’s a wonder that she doesn’t recognize it from earlier.

“If it’s a bomb, you definitely shouldn’t be touching it.” Wade squats down next to her, squinting at the box. “But I don’t think Petey would get a bomb for us.” He turns that squint on Peter. “Would you...?”

“We should torture the truth out of him.” Ellie’s squint is eerily similar. “You hold him down and I’ll go get the feathers.”

Peter rolls his eyes and cocks a hip as he crosses his arms. “Or you could just open it and see. It’s something for you to borrow.”

“Borrow?” Ellie shoves Wade’s hands out of the way when he reaches for it, and she flips the box open herself. She gasps loudly when she sees all the comics inside and claps both hands to her cheeks. “I can really borrow all of these?”

“Of course.”

Ellie is up and hugging him in the blink of an eye. “ _Thank_ you!”

“Anytime, kiddo.” Peter drops a hand on her head and wraps an arm around her shoulders, giving her a good squeeze. “I know you’ll take good care of them.”

There’s a quiet ‘ _aww_ ’ behind him, and Peter glances back over his shoulder to find Dopinder with a sappy smile on his face. “What a sweet moment.” He puts a hand over his heart. “You are a very beautiful family.”

Wade gets to his feet sharply, and Peter knows without a doubt that he’s lost his smile. He’s not wearing the image inducer right now, having turned it off when they got back to the apartment. Ellie nuzzles her face harder against his stomach, and Peter tightens his grip on her.

He turns back to Wade with a smile and gestures for him to join the hug. “Yes, we are.”

Though he drags his heels, Wade does stumble into Peter’s outstretched arm. He tucks himself against his side, curling over him to hide his face in the curve of his neck. Peter smiles against his temple and kisses the space above his ear. He doesn’t need to ask to know that Wade is feeling self-conscious, even in the face of one of his longest acquaintances. Peter leans their heads together and squeezes around Wade’s shoulders.

“Would you like a photograph of this moment?” Dopinder raises his phone and steps around them, getting a better angle.

In answer, Wade holds out a hand with the middle finger raised. Peter snorts a laugh, but he gives Dopinder a nod. It would be nice to have a picture of them.

Later, when he’s looking at the picture that Dopinder texted him, Peter notes that Aurora managed to get in at that last moment. She’s standing behind Ellie with her little feet up on the back of her legs, just her paws and head making it into the picture. Dopinder was right. They _do_ look like a little family.

It’s perfect and Peter, like the giant _sap_ that he is, sets it as the background on his phone.


	9. Monday

The horizon is growing pale again by the time Spider-Man crawls down the apartment’s exterior wall to the open and waiting bedroom window. He stayed out a little later than he intended but for very good reason.

Peter grips the bricks under his fingers and swings feet first through the window, landing in a silent crouch. There’s a lump on the bed, and the door is mostly closed with the barest hint of light coming through from the night light plugged into the outlet in the hall. He’s barely started sliding the window closed when there’s movement behind him.

“How did it go?”

“Good.” Peter tugs his mask off and ruffles a hand through his hair. “Mostly muggings. There was one pretty bad car accident and a jumper on the bridge. I sat with them and walked them home.” He peels off his gloves, and he drops them and his webshooters in a pile on top of the dresser. “Now I’m exhausted.”

To emphasize his point, Peter shuffles over to the bed and flops face down with a groan.

“I can help with that.” Wade tucks his hands under Peter’s arms and hauls him up to lay against the pillows.

He could complain about the treatment, but, honestly, he doesn’t mind. It’s nice to let someone else take care of him for once. Though, it _is_ a bit weird to let Wade undress him. Is it too big a step for a couple of guys who haven’t even talked about whether or not they’re in a relationship? Peter should probably ask. He opens his mouth to do that just, and then he promptly shuts it to muffle a pleased groan when Wade tugs off his boots and digs his thumbs into the arch of each foot.

Wade rubs up each leg, pressing and rubbing each muscle as he goes. He skips Peter’s pants but pushes the top half of the suit up, massaging away the aches and pains from swinging around the city for hours on end. Peter lets him pull the shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere into the dark of the room to be forgotten until someone trips over it in the morning.

A soft, happy sigh escapes him, and Peter closes his eyes. And then opens them in surprise when the hands are replaced with a gentle pair of lips. Kisses flutter across his shoulders and down his spine, following the wake of his hands as they move down towards his pants. Fingers hook into the waistband, and Peter smiles into the pillow, waiting for the reaction he knows is coming his way.

The pants make it a few inches down before he feels Wade sit up sharply. There’s a moment of silence before he speaks, and it’s just one word, low and rough: “ _Pete_.”

Peter bites his bottom lip and tries not to laugh. “Yeah?”

“You’re not—” Wade swallows thickly. “I didn’t—How _long_ —”

This is actually hilarious, and it is _killing_ Peter not to laugh out loud. Instead, he twists slightly to look at Wade over his shoulder. The nightlight in the hall isn’t nearly enough to see features, but he hopes the amusement comes across. “You seriously never caught on that I’ve never had underwear lines in my spandex?”

Wade makes a choked noise.

Peter decides to go for the kill, just because he can. “I wear a cup and go commando.”

The noise Wade makes is somewhere between a whimper and a groan. His hands spasm at Peter’s hips, but they don’t move any further. It takes Peter a minute to realize that he’s _hesitating_ about taking things further. Wade Wilson. _Deadpool_. Hesitating to take Spider-Man’s pants off. Who would have thought this day would ever come?

“I’m an adult, Wade.” Peter turns back into the pillows and crosses his arms under one. He wiggles and arches his back a little. “I’m not a blushing virgin. If you want to pull my pants down, I’m not going to complain.” He’ll have a moment where he’s going to try hard not to think about how much has changed since last week, but he’s _definitely_ not going to complain.

“What if—” Wade’s breath fans out over Peter’s lower back again, and he presses a kiss to the dip of Peter’s spine. “What if I want to take us from a PG-13 rating to an R?”

That’s a very good question, and Peter contemplates it for a moment or two. Are they moving too fast? It took him literally _months_ to work up the courage to try and move his relationship with Mary Jane further. And here he is, about to let Wade freaking Wilson strip him naked. After less than a week.

“I am surprisingly okay with that.” Peter rests his cheek against the pillow and watches the square of the window grow incrementally brighter with sunlight. “I’ve never done—y’know—butt stuff before. Just as an FYI. I mean, MJ put her fingers in once, but that’s about it.” He shifts slightly, frowning at a bubble of nervousness that balloons behind his ribs. “I think I’d prefer taking it slow where that’s concerned.”

Because Peter has barely thought about having sex with Wade. He doesn’t know if Wade would want to bottom, or vice versa, but it makes him feel light headed to think that far ahead. Peter would rather figure it out as they go along. Probably. Or maybe just sit down and have a good talk. The two of them are very good at talking, even if they don’t say a lot when they do. Or—

“Can I blow you?” Wade pulls him out of his head with that one breathless, hopeful question. “Oh my _God_ , Petey, please let me get my mouth on you. I will actually die, permanently, if you tease me like this and _not_ let me get my mouth on that dick.”

Peter snorts into the pillow and turns his face to muffle a giggle. He’s tired, but he could probably get it up. And a blowjob would absolutely knock him out afterwards. So, yeah. Sure. Why not?

Slowly, Peter rolls over onto his back and very purposefully lifts his hips without a word. Wade groans and presses his forehead into his stomach, hot breath tickling the hair below his belly button. Peter bites his bottom lip and tries not to squirm as Wade inches his pants down, exposing him to the warm air of the room. He’s not sure if Wade can actually see anything, but the idea of him watching— _staring—_ is enough to get his blood to start heading south.

Wade mouths at the little pudge developing around his navel, sliding lower the further down he pulls Peter’s pants. He skips over his dick entirely and presses kisses all down his legs until he has to sit up and tug the spandex from around his ankles. Peter tries not to squirm as Wade runs his hands back up his legs, thumbs stroking over the sensitive insides of his thighs. He feels _exposed_ in ways he hasn’t in a really long time, even though the room is almost fully dark.

As soon as that mouth is on him again, wicked and nipping at his inner thighs, Peter almost shoves his fist into his mouth. His dick _definitely_ likes that, a jolt of pleasure making his legs spasm slightly as it rushes right up into his gut. Wade pushes his legs apart more, and Peter’s dick twitches in anticipation.

He’s absolutely having a reaction to this, and it’s good to know that the (really hot) kisses they shared the other night weren’t a one off in arousing him. “I think this solves the mystery of whether or not a guy can get me hard.”

“Praise Odin.” Wade’s breath puffs against his dick with every word, and Peter sucks in a sharp breath, hips twitching up to try and meet that wicked mouth. But Wade stays just tantalizingly out of reach. “I was kinda worried about that.” He drops a kiss to the right crease where thigh meets hip. “Kissing is one thing, but actually _this_ …”

Peter doesn’t have a chance to say anything. Wade follows it up by dropping his head, hot tongue flicking across Peter’s balls. He licks a wet stripe from base to head, and Peter has to, again, cover his mouth to muffle the startled noise he makes. It’s been so long since he had sex that he forgot the can get a little loud when someone else is taking care of his—uh—needs.

The same dedication and single-mindedness Wade has at kissing, he gives to blow jobs. Peter should have expected it, but he’s still taken by surprise. With a tight grip on his hips, Wade lifts him straight off the mattress to meet his mouth, taking his dick deep and sucking hard around it. His hands are on Peter’s butt, kneading and gripping it, getting in all the groping he’s been denied all these years.

Of course Wade doesn’t have a gag reflex. Why would he? And, _God_ , that _tongue_! It feels like it’s everywhere, twisting and licking and stroking. Wade keeps groaning low in his throat, like this is everything for him, head bobbing enthusiastically like he just can’t get enough. Peter wishes he could see better just to have the visual imprinted in his memory. He’s sweating harder right now than he did all night, muffling gasps under his hands.

Sorry, Mary Jane, but this might very well win the _Best Blowjob_ award, hands down.

Most people might be embarrassed by how quickly he comes, but Peter isn’t. He shudders through his orgasm, and Wade sucks down every last drop, making lewd slurping sounds and swallowing around him. Clearly, he wants Peter to be overstimulated, and he’s going about it in all the right ways.

When he pulls off with a pop, there’s the slick sounds of lips being licked before Wade leans over him. His voice is rougher than usual— _wrecked_. “Thanks for the late night snack.”

“Oh my God.” Peter can barely catch his breath, and his body feels immediately ten times heavier than it did when he climbed through the window. “What the heck was that?”

“Hopefully, it was the most mind blowing blowjob you’ve ever received.” Wade sounds terribly smug about it, and then he flips the switch to worry. “Please say ‘yes’. My ego needs to hear it.”

Peter laughs, high and a little shaky. “ _Yes_.”

“ _Fuck yeah_.” Wade actually pumps the air a few times before stretching out next to Peter.

He’s curled against his side in such a way that Peter can absolutely feel that Wade is hard against his thigh too. And that’s when it hits him and Peter sits up sharply. “We have a problem.”

Tension fills Wade’s shoulders. “What is it?”

“I’ve never given a blowjob before.” And it’s making him _panic_ to think that it’s going to be _so bad_ for Wade if he reciprocated right now. “It’s going to be woefully inadequate compared to the one you just gave me.”

“Aw, Petey.” Wade reaches up to push the hair off his forehead. “You don’t have to blow me.”

“I don’t?” He frowns down at him. Isn’t he supposed to, though? Peter doesn’t like it when everything is about him. Giving back and making his partner feel good is more important to him than his own pleasure.

Wade shakes his head and pushes up over him again, leaning close enough to brush a kiss just shy of Peter’s ear. “Let me rub up against that beautiful bubblebutt of yours, and I will literally come in my pants _so hard_.”

Peter snorts and suppresses a shiver as Wade presses a kiss under his ear. “You’re the second person in twenty-four hours to say I have a bubblebutt.”

“Cuz’ you do, and it’s amazing.” Wade’s hand slides up Peter’s inner thigh again. “I want to touch it _all the time_.” He slips across his lower stomach to his hip, hand pushing underneath Peter to grip his butt. “It’s seriously a problem, and I will literally do _anything_ for you if you let me grind against your ass like a horny teenager at a school sock hop when the chaperone isn’t looking.”

That’s a highly specific visual, and Peter wants to laugh. But he’s very distracted by how Wade is rocking against his hip, kneading his butt, and tonguing his neck. Peter groans and drops his head to Wade’s shoulder. “Well, if you put it _that_ way, how can I say ‘no’? We really should—”

He was _about_ to say that they should have an intervention regarding Wade’s obsession with his butt, but he’s interrupted as Wade flips him onto his stomach. Peter scrambles to get comfortable, and then he _squeaks_ when Wade lines their hips up, pressing the hard line of his dick against him through his pajama bottoms. Something hot and shivery flares up Peter’s spine, and he’s starting to get the idea that he _wouldn’t_ mind taking this further.

Peter braces a hand against the headboard and pushes back. He rolls his hips against Wade’s and grins as he’s rewarded with a low groan against the back of his neck. Wade fumbles between them, and, a moment later, Peter feels skin on skin as he pushes his pants out of the way. Another man’s dick is so _hot_ and _hard_. He should have expected it, since he has one of his own, but it still catches him by surprise.

Wade keeps making little noises and speaking aborted words between them, hips rocking against him. His hands are gripping at Peter’s waist, and they move down to his hips, then to his butt. He rubs with his thumbs and then _pulls the cheeks apart_. Peter jerks forward slightly and looks over his shoulder, despite knowing that Wade would _never_ do anything to him that he didn’t explicitly ask for.

Instead of an answer, Wade muffles a giggle into his shoulder and distinctly mumbles something about a _hotdog_. He then pushes Peter’s butt together again, sandwiching his dick between his cheeks and continuing to thrust.

Peter laughs and drops his head back into the pillow. “My butt is not your bun.”

“But it fits my _meat_ so well!” Wade’s laugh is almost a whine into his shoulder, and Peter shivers at the feel of lips moving against his skin. He mouths at it there, sucking or scraping his teeth across it, and it’s surprising how much Peter likes that.

After a minute, Wade presses his cheek to the side of Peter’s neck. “Don’t—Promise you won’t judge for how quick I’m gonna come?” He groans again, and his hips pick up speed. “I’ve been—Fuck, Petey, I’ve wanted this—wanted _you_ for—”

Wade never finishes what he was going to say. He presses his forehead into the back of Peter’s neck and, with a grunt and a few snaps of his hips, comes hot and wet across Peter’s lower back. Even then, he keeps thrusting for a few moments, probably until he’s fully spent and that white hot feeling in his veins has ebbed. Peter knows the feeling all too well.

Groaning quietly, Wade pulls away and flops on his side next to him. He gathers Peter up in his arms, drawing him back against his chest and very firmly pressing up all along him. His pants are still down around his thighs, but that’s not what caught Peter’s attention.

“You just squished your jizz between us.”

“Mhmm.” Wade hums and squirms closer. “We’ll be glued together by the time I gotta get up to take Ellie to school.”

Oh God. “Ew!” Peter squirms and tries to get away, but Wade wraps a leg over his. “Wade, no!”

“Be one with me, Petey.”

He sounds so serious that Peter can’t help laughing. It’s hard to keep quiet, but the last thing they need is for Ellie to walk in on them naked (or mostly naked) together. “Let me go!”

There’s a gross squelching sound when Wade finally does let him scramble across the bed. It’s probably infinitely louder to Peter than it is to Wade, which means he shudders at it a whole lot more. Wade still whines, though, quietly complaining to himself while he surfaces with a wet wipe from the bedside table. He drags Peter back to him to clean him up, even going so far as to drop a kiss to one of his buttcheeks.

Once he’s satisfied, Wade pulls the blanket over them. “Sleep now?”

Peter yawns and stretches out. “I guess so. Normally I’d prefer to put my underwear back on…”

Wade grabs him by the shoulders and leans close enough until they’re almost nose-to-nose. “I will literally do _anything you want_ if you stay naked.”

“Okay, fine.” Peter laughs and tilts his chin the rest of the way to kiss him. Just one quick peck to the lips. “I want to be the big spoon.”

“Fucking _deal_!” Wade turns over quickly and scoots back against him, wiggling excitedly. He’s like a big puppy, and Peter can’t help smiling at the sun that settles behind his ribs.

With a laugh, he curls against Wade’s back and hooks an arm around his waist. It’s a bit weird that his flaccid dick is against Wade’s pajama pants, but Wade doesn’t seem to mind. Peter figures he’ll probably get used to it.

He presses a kiss to the back of Wade’s neck. “Goodnight.”

“ _Best_ night.” Wade sighs, and it’s very distinctly happy.

Peter smiles at the knowledge that he’s the reason behind that.

The alarm goes off only a few hours later because Ellie has to get up for school. Wade rolls out of Peter’s arms as quietly as he can, but the dip of the bed and the trill of the alarm wakes him anyways. With a groan, Peter forces himself to get up too. He wants to see Ellie off like a good, responsible adult trying to win favour with the daughter of his… his—uh—boyfriend?

While Wade and Ellie get dressed and have breakfast, Peter takes a quick shower. Ellie showered last night, and Wade will probably shower later and spend an hour doing his moisturizer routine after Peter leaves for work. It’s a nice little ritual, and he wouldn’t mind doing something like this again in the future. Or every morning. That would be nice.

Peter makes himself coffee and toast while Ellie brushes her teeth. Aurora is nose deep in her bowl, noisily crunching on her kibble. Peter squats to pet her, and her little tail starts wagging at the first touch even though she doesn’t lift her head.

The three of them (plus dog) head down together to wait for the bus in front of the building. Ellie is in control of Aurora’s leash because that’s the unspoken agreement between them. She wouldn’t allow anything else, and Peter is _not_ keen on ever finding out what an Ellie meltdown might be like.

“Bye, Merida.” Ellie kneels in front of Aurora on the sidewalk and ruffles her fur around her neck. She scratches her behind the ears and kisses her on the tip of her nose. There are tears in her eyes as she spends the whole few minutes before the bus pulls up cuddling Aurora.

When she stands up, Ellie scrubs her sleeve over her eyes and reaches up for Wade. He bends down for a kiss on the cheek, and Ellie only wrinkles her nose a little bit at the tingling from the image inducer. “See you Friday?”

“As soon as the bell rings.” Wade taps her on the nose once and follows it up with a kiss. “Have a good week, runt.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, sniffles, and turns to Peter with her arms out. He doesn’t hesitate to pick her up in a hug. “I’m glad I got to get to know you this week.”

“Me too.” Ellie wraps her arms around his neck to hug him back tightly. She muffles a whisper into his shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I know.” Peter puts her down and swats at her ponytail as she turns away. “Have a good day at school, kiddo. I’ll see you later.”

Ellie hesitates, stopping only to give Aurora one last kiss goodbye before she waves at them and gets on the bus. Wade slings an arm around Peter’s shoulders and waves enthusiastically once Ellie gets a seat at a window facing them. Peter waves too, though Aurora is already starting to tug at the leash, desperate to find the nearest patch of grass to do her business. They wait until the bus has pulled away from the curb and started off down the road before they turn to walk in the other direction.

Wade grabs his hand as soon as they start walking, and Peter allows it. He bites his lip to keep himself from smiling as Wade swings their arms, humming loudly and nearly _skipping_ while they walk. He shouldn’t be so _cute_ , but the more time Peter spends with him outside of the suit—the more time they spend together as _themselves_ —the more he thinks so.

“You gotta work today, right?”

“Mhmm.” Peter muffles a yawn into his shoulder. “Gotta be there at ten o’clock.”

The hand in his squeezes tightly. “Oh, so that gives us a few hours, huh?” There’s an almost wicked grin on his face when Peter glances at him. “Whatever shall we do with _all that time_?”

If the waggling eyebrows don’t give away what Wade is hinting at, the saucy wink definitely does the trick. Peter rolls his eyes in response and brings them to a stop so Aurora can do her business at the first patch of grass she deems acceptable.

“We’ll see.”

“Great!” Wade kisses him quickly on the cheek and shoves his free hand into the pocket of Peter’s coat. He surfaces with his cellphone and jumps away before Peter can do anything to get it back. “Now, down to business!”

Peter can’t step too far from Aurora without blocking the flow of traffic on the sidewalk, but he does make a valiant attempt to reach for his phone. “Give it back!”

Wade shakes his head and dances away. “Can’t! Gotta send a couple messages to try and make my baby girl as happy as I can.”

What in the world is _that_ supposed to—Oh. Oh _no_. “Wade, don’t you _dare_. Leave MJ alone! She said she’ll think about it.”

“I know, but I wanna try and sweeten the deal.” Wade leans back against the washed brick of the building behind him and taps away at the screen. “You don’t even lock your phone, Petey? Shame on you. You’re practically begging me to send embarrassing messages to all your friends.”

Peter is half-tempted to web the darn thing out of his hands, but there are far too many people around for that. “ _Wade_.”

“Uno momento, mi amor.” Wade holds up one hand, finger raised, while he types at the phone with the other. “Just letting your ex-boo know that your current-boo is totally willing to pay for Queen Elizabeth the Second.”

Aurora _finally_ finishes her business, and Peter has to busy himself with cleaning up after her. By the time he’s bagged her waste, Wade has finished with the messages and is tucking the phone back into Peter’s pockets. He pats it once with a smile and starts off down the sidewalk again, whistling a jaunty tune.

Peter _could_ go see what he sent, but what’s the point? They’re sent, and Mary Jane may or may not respond favourably to them. There’s not much he can do to change it now. He just sighs, throws the baggy in the nearest trash can, and jogs with Aurora to catch up to Wade. Even though he probably shouldn’t, Peter lets him take his hand again, but he also makes Wade buy him a big fancy coffee at the first café they come across on their walk.

When they finally get back to the apartment, Aurora is dragging her paws and looking like she needs a mid-morning nap. Peter gathers her stuff from around the apartment, setting her up in her dog bed with a chew toy while he works. Wade collects all of Ellie’s things and tidies up the rest of the space, throwing clothes and bedding in the laundry, starting the dishwasher, and turning on a roomba that Peter hadn’t even noticed before.

He’s clearly preparing the place to be empty for the next week, and that’s kinda sad. Peter knows that Wade has a couple places around town that he cycles through. Two are permanent—here, for Ellie, and Casa De Deadpool with all the various crap he’s collected over the years. There’s even a _dune buggy_ in there, and Peter hasn’t quite worked up enough curiosity to ask about it. Yet.

The other places are just… really crappy. They’re in terrible neighbourhoods with fourth-hand furniture, dirty, decrepit, and otherwise just really unappealing. It’s enough for when they just need a roof over their heads and a TV to binge watch while they binge eat, but Peter has been spoiled now by this big, fancy apartment. He wants to stay in that big bed, cuddle Wade all day long, and just be comfortable every day.

But he also wants to be Spider-Man and keep the city safe.

Ah, the difficulties of being him.

With one last thump, Wade tops off the small pile of Ellie’s stuff by the door with a teddy bear that must be the same size as her, if not slightly bigger. He dusts his hands clean and turns to Peter with a beatific smile. “There! That’s all ready to go.”

Peter looks up from where he’s been waiting on the couch, scrolling through a newsfeed on his phone. “You’re taking it all over to the Prestons’ place when I leave for work?”

“Yup. Lookit me being all responsible and shit.” Wade all but saunters over to him, a very subtle sway to his hips that Peter forces himself not to watch. “That’s totally a kink for you, isn’t it?”

“Responsibility?” He raises an eyebrow and makes himself maintain eye contact. “Yes, absolutely. Nothing gets me going more than knowing your bills are paid and you put the laundry away after washing it.”

Wade laughs and comes to a stop in front of Peter, hands on his hips and towering over him. There’s a devious smile curling his lips, and, slowly, he slides one knee onto the cushion next to Peter’s thigh. He follows it with the other knee sliding in on the other side of his lap. And, just like that, Wade is straddling his thighs.

This is infinitely more interesting than his phone, and Peter actually tosses it aside. His hands bracket Wade’s hips, thumbs pushing up underneath his t-shirt and swiping along the waist of his jeans. They’re fairly form fitting, and they must make his butt look _amazing_ while they’re drawn tight over him like they are right now. Peter wants to see it, but he doesn’t get the chance to even really _think_ about that because Wade is leaning in kissing him, and nothing else really matters after that.

The first kiss they shared was definitely not a one off. Wade absolutely knows what he’s doing when he kisses, and Peter can barely keep up. He may be a little rusty after a depressing year of solitude after his divorce, but Mary Jane seemed to think he wasn’t half bad at this. It’d be nice to show Wade what he can do, but Peter’s brain keeps fizzling out whenever Wade sucks on his tongue or drags his teeth across his bottom lip.

The scars make for an interesting texture, and Peter can’t get enough of it. He wants to pull Wade’s clothing off and rub up against him, mouth across every inch of him and—

Something starts beeping insistently off to their left. Wade groans into his mouth and shifts closer, pressing Peter into the back of the couch with his body. But the alarm keeps going, and it’s _really_ distracting.

“Wade.” Peter brings his hands up to press against his chest. “I need to go.”

“Take the day off.” He cards his fingers through Peter’s hair, catching just enough to make him shiver. “Just stay here and let me take real good care of you. Quit your job, and I’ll pay for everything. _Please_.”

That shouldn’t be as tempting as it is, and it takes more of Peter’s willpower than he’s willing to admit to push Wade back enough for them to breathe. “Wade. I like my job.” He opens his mouth to argue, but Peter covers it with his hand. “Yes, I know Jameson is a jerk and the pay isn’t great, but it’s the only job where I can handle being Spider-Man too. And I can’t _not_ work. It doesn’t feel right.”

“But I—”

“No, Wade.” Peter grips him by the hips again and lifts him clean out of his lap, standing in the same motion. “You can beg to be my sugar daddy all you want, but that’s not something I’m going to budge on.”

Wade crosses his arms, and his bottom lip juts out in a pout. Peter leans up to kiss it away and then quickly finds his phone to shut the darn thing off.

“Alright, I’ve gotta get going if I want to get there on time.” He starts for the door, intent on getting his shoes and coat on. It’s not like he _planned_ on spending the weekend here, so he doesn’t have his camera or anything that he usually brings with him to work and needs to stop at home first.

“Will I see you after work?” Wade grabs a paper bag from the counter and leans against the sliver of wall separating the door from the kitchen. “Or on patrol?”

Peter shrugs into his coat, thinking about it. “Well, you’re going to watch Aura for me for the day, aren’t you?”

“Duh, of course I will. She’s family now.” Wade wiggles his fingers at Aurora, where she’s sitting in her bed at the end of the couch. She yawns and puts her head back down on her crossed paws. “You want me to pick you up after work?”

“I don’t know, Wade.” Though he would like to, obviously, Peter doesn’t want to come off as _too_ clingy. Instead, he pulls Wade down for one more lingering kiss. “I’ll text you later, and we’ll figure it out, okay? Just keep Aura alive on your own until then.”

Wade leans after him as he steps away, eyes hooded and hazy. “Yeah, okay. Yes. Absolutely. I can do that.” He blinks and shakes himself out. “Wait, what did you ask?”

Peter snorts and pats him on the cheek. “See you later.” He grabs the paper bag from Wade’s hands and opens the door. “Don’t do anything Spider-Man wouldn’t do.”

Wade gives him a firm pat on the butt on his way out the door. “Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave.” He grins, leaning out into the hall to watch Peter as he heads for the stairs. “I know it’s a trope for our fics, but I just _had_ to use it.” He blows him a kiss. “Have a good day at work, sweetie!”

It takes everything in Peter’s power not to laugh. He waves over his shoulder and ducks into the stairs with one last smile. He has to stop with his back against the door to take a few deep breaths and will away the persistent pulse of _heat_ in his belly.

Once he’s reaffirmed that he is, indeed, a fully functioning adult and _not_ a teenager with his first crush, Peter puts one foot in front of the other and forces himself to head off to work.

When Wade isn’t waiting for him outside the Bugle offices, Peter expects him to be somewhere along the way. And yet, he isn’t. Even Dopinder isn’t waiting for him, which is kind of telling. Peter looks at his phone and frowns. Wade has been texting him almost non stop all day, which was a little distracting but also very entertaining. Mary Jane hasn’t said a word, though, and that’s terrifying. She did read the messages Wade sent, but the silence is excruciating.

Peter worries about it for the whole trip home, where he—God, he doesn’t know. At this point, he’d really just like a nap, especially since he plans to go patrolling this evening. But he’d like to spend time with Wade too, and it’s so _dumb_. They already spend a lot of time together. What’s a few more hours? And Aurora—He’s going to need to collect her and get her set back up at his apartment and—

“What took you so long?”

Having someone speak the moment he’s through the door to his apartment is so unusual that Peter jerks so hard he nearly ends up on the ceiling. He definitely drops his phone, though, and he winces as it bounces across the faux hardwood with such a heart-wrenching sound that he _knows_ there’s going to be another crack across the screen.

Wade is sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, his own phone in hand and Aurora sitting next to him. He looks down at Peter’s phone and then back up at him. “Now why’d you go and do something silly like that?”

“How did you get in?” Peter scoops his phone up and frowns at the little shatter in the bottom right corner. Darn it.

“You don’t lock your window.” Wade jerks his thumb at the only window in the whole of the apartment. “Which is really stupid of you, by the way. What if someone else wanted to break in here?”

Peter looks around at the severe lack of things that are worth being stolen. “Yeah, that’s definitely something I worry about.” He kicks the door shut and shrugs his bag off his shoulder. “You could have just met me downstairs, y’know? Breaking and entering”—Wade opens his mouth, and Peter raises his voice to speak over him—“even if you’re not actually _breaking_ , is still a _crime_.”

“Well, I had to get Harley Quinn back to you _somehow_.” Wade pointedly scratches Aurora under the chin. “And she sure as shit isn’t going to be staying at any of _my_ safehouses.” He looks around at the tiny apartment. “This place is small, but it’s still better.”

And that’s when Peter spots the duffle bag tucked in front of his closet, just barely hidden from where he’s standing by the bookcase. He gives it a pointed look before facing Wade again. “Is that supposed to mean that you’re staying here now?”

Wade waggles his brows and grins. “I could…” He shrugs and looks down at Aurora. “But, actually, I was just carrying it with me. I wanted to see the Spidey-Cave and get Amelia Bedelia back to you safe and sound, like I promised.”

There’s only one part of everything he said that catches Peter’s attention. “I don’t have a Spidey-Cave.” He toes out of his shoes and heads over to the bed.

“Yeah, this is more like a—”

“Don’t finish that thought.” Peter picks Aurora up and deposits her on the dog bed that Wade set up by the foot of the bed. With one tug, he has Wade turning and falling back against the pillow. “Just shush and nap with me.”

With a frown, Wade wiggles against the lumpy mattress, probably because he’s being stabbed by the traveling spring of doom. “But I’m not tired!”

“Then you can just cuddle me.” Peter crawls onto the bed and uses his knees to make space for himself between Wade’s legs. He stretches out over top of him and tucks his face against his neck. “Figure out how to entertain yourself somehow.”

There’s a weighty pause that follows, and it takes Peter two seconds to figure out why. He sighs and nudges his nose against Wade’s pulse. “Entertain yourself in a way that _doesn’t_ involve touching me.”

All the air leaves Wade’s lungs in a long huff. “Spoilsport.” But a hand still comes to rub a comforting stroke up and down Peter’s spine. “I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

“Mmm. Thank you.” Peter lets himself go boneless, loose and comfortable on top of his probably-a-boyfriend. He hums a yawn into Wade’s neck and slowly fades out of the world.

When he wakes up a while later, he’s still on top of Wade, but a hand is petting through his hair now. He can hear Aurora chewing on something in the background, and the quiet sound of Wade’s phone as he watches… Is that the My Little Pony movie?

Peter may or may not be drooling a little on the collar of Wade’s Henley. He peels his face back just enough to be able to breathe through his nose. “What is Aura chewing on?”

“Rawhide.” Wade curls his fingers and gives his hair a little tug, and Peter has to muffle a moan in the back of his throat. “Bought it for her earlier on the way here.”

“Okay.” He tilts his head up to hum against Wade’s jaw. “You wanna go out now?”

“Ooooo!” Wade tugs lightly at his hair again. “Are we finally gonna have a _date night_ , Petey? Gonna let me woo you right?”

It’s hard not to smile at how excited Wade gets about that. “I was thinking more about going on patrol.” He rubs his nose into the soft scars under Wade’s jaw. “But a date night sounds good too.”

“Dinner _and_ patrol?”

Wade sounds so hopeful, and Peter can’t bring himself to burst that bubble. “Yeah, I think we can do that.”

As Peter pushes up onto his hands and knees, Wade cups him around the back of the neck and pulls him down into a kiss. His breath must be stale and gross from sleeping for the last who-knows-how-many-hours, but Wade doesn’t seem to mind. There’s a big grin slapped across his face when he finally lets Peter surface for air.

“Sorry.” Wade’s hand slides to his cheek, and his thumb sweeps across Peter’s bottom lip. “Just couldn’t resist, y’know? It’s just—I can’t believe I’m allowed that—allowed _this_. Like, this is real, right?” A frown starts to pull his smile down. “You sure I didn’t just lose my shit, and I’m not hallucinating or something? I had those before—before _you_.”

Yeah, that used to be a thing. Peter remembers how bad it was in those first few months. Wade used to talk to himself, or, rather, to _boxes_ —voices in his head. Peter is _far_ from being a therapist, but they found that the more _good_ Wade did, the better he got. He still has some not so great moments, but he’s been doing _so well_ for such a long time.

“This isn’t a hallucination.” Peter leans in to kiss him again. “I promise.” He sits back on his heels and pulls Wade up until he’s sitting. “Now, c’mon. Let’s go eat.”

Wade eyes him from head to toe as he slides to the floor, and there isn’t a drop of subtlety to him when he licks his lips. Peter tries not to blush, but he can feel the back of his neck grow hot. This is just **—** Christ, has anyone ever wanted him the way Wade does? He looks at Peter like he wants to _eat him_ , and even at the prime of his sexual relationship with Mary Jane, he never felt so wanted.

Aurora stands up in her bed and wiggles excitedly when she sees the both of them get up. Peter turns on the radio for her, and Wade fills her bowl with some kibble. That takes her full attention off of them, and they’re able to slip out of the apartment without her wanting to come with them. Peter locks up behind them while Wade turns his image inducer back on, ignoring Peter’s pointed look of disapproval.

His butt gets groped no less than _three_ times on the way to the main floor.

There’s a Mexican restaurant not far from where Peter lives. It happens to be one of their favourite places to get take out after a long night of patrol. Unbeknownst to Wade, however, was just how close it is to Peter’s place. Wade points this out almost _immediately_ , but he doesn’t poke fun at how it meant that they went all the way to Casa de Deadpool just for Peter to have to swing back afterwards.

Keeping a secret identity definitely wasn’t about _convenience_ , that’s for sure.

“Since this is our first _official_ date, I think we should dine in.” Wade wraps his arm around Peter’s as he pulls him through the doors.

“Sounds great.” Peter holds up two fingers when the hostess glances their way from where she’s seating another couple. She nods and gives the universal signal for _one moment_.

While they’re waiting, Wade leans in and practically puts his mouth on Peter’s ear. “What’s your timeline on sex?”

Peter instantly feels too hot in his clothes and he turns his face away. “I’m not talking about that in public.” And _not_ because he’s a prude. He most definitely _isn’t_ , but it’s not exactly something they should talk about when there’s a _child_ in a high-chair less than twenty feet from them.

“So, that’s a ‘ _no_ ’ on the bathroom sex, then?”

That husky voice takes the heat flaring in his cheeks and directs it straight southward. But Peter ignores it to give Wade a disapproving frown. “ _Wade_!”

He shrugs, and, oh, his hand is on Peter’s butt again. “Couldn’t hurt to ask.”

Good God. What changed in twelve hours for him to be—Ah, that’s it. “Were you keeping it in your pants until now because Ellie was around?” Peter squints at him because Wade was most definitely _not_ this physically affectionate yesterday.

“Oh, definitely.” Wade leans in again, voice dropping into a purr as his hand curves over Peter’s butt. “You have _no_ idea how long I’ve wanted you to be mine.” He actually _squeezes_ , and Peter has to bite back a squeak. “And now that you’re mine… Oh, baby, I’ve got _years_ of fantasies to play out.”

Peter slaps his hand away and steps sharply to the side to put some space between them. When Wade reaches out for him, he drops his hands at the first hard look. His bottom lip punches out in a pout, and his whole body sags. When the hostess finally comes over to seat them, Wade drags his heels the whole way to the booth where she seats them.

Once they’re seated, Peter ignores their menus and leans over the table. “Wade, I have something serious to discuss with you.”

The pout is wiped away in an instant, and Wade sits up straighter, panic filling his eyes. “Listen, if this is about the sex thing, I can wait. Hell, we don’t _ever_ have to—”

“This isn’t about the sex thing, Wade. I am _more_ than willing to explore that with you.” Peter reaches for his hand to hold it between his. “But I need you to choose who you’re going to date. Is it going to be me or the other guy?” Anyone he knew first in the suit never picked Peter Parker over Spider-Man, and he’s low-key terrified that Wade won’t want _him_ too.

Wade frowns and cocks his head to the side slightly. “Other guy?”

“You know who.” And if Wade needs any further information to figure out the non sequitur, Peter will flash him the suit under his collar again.

That ends up not being necessary as Wade’s eyebrows go up. “But you’re both—”

“You know that and I know that. Other people _don’t_ know that.” Peter squeezes his hand, ignoring how the buzz of the image inducer is kind of making his fingers go numb. “But people _do_ know who you are. Both of you. If they see you out with me, you without the image inducer, because you _know_ I prefer you without it”—Wade looks skeptical at that, but Peter perseveres—“What I’m trying to say, Wade, is that if you flirt with the other guy but people know that you out of the costume is dating me out of the costume, they might put two-and-two together.”

It takes a few moments before Wade’s eyes widen. “Oh. _Oh_.” He looks down at their hands and a shadow of a frown passes over his face. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

A quiet falls over the table, and it stays that way until the waitress comes over to get their drinks. They end up ordering right then and there because they both know their regular orders by heart for this place. Peter tries really hard not to fidget because this is _nerve wracking_.

When the waitress finally walks away, Wade takes Peter’s hand again. “You.” His smile is small but genuine, and Peter desperately wants to see it _without_ the image inducer. “I wanna be with _you_ , Petey.”

It’s almost enough to make him cry. Peter stands up and leans over the table enough to kiss that soft little smile. Wade is full on _beaming_ once Peter sits down again.

“I want to be with you too.” He brings Wade’s hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the unseen scars on his knuckles. “But this means you’re going to need to keep your hands to yourself when I’m _not_ me, understand?”

Wade wilts just a little bit before he sighs. “Yeah, I got it.” He brings up his other hand to draw an ‘X’ over his heart. “Promise.” And then he pauses, and a frown pinches his brows again. “How does the image inducer play into this? I mean, I used to be okay going out without it, but since Ellie… I kinda like not having people stare all the time, y’know?”

“Well, since I intend to spend as much time with you _and_ Ellie as I can, I guess you’ll just have to keep wearing the inducer when we go out together, even without her.” Peter frowns down at their hands too, rubbing his thumb across Wade’s knuckles and feeling every dip and crease of the scars. “And I’m also going to make sure that you know I prefer the _regular_ you.”

Wade still looks doubtful about that, but Peter knew that was always going to happen. It’s going to be a _process_ , but he is fully willing to spend the time making Wade understand that. Just like he’s determined to tell him how proud he is of all the progress he’s made, and of how much he’s grown, and he’s just—He’s amazing.

But that pout, though cute, doesn’t suit him. “Wade.” Peter grips his hand tight and leans closer over the table, dropping his voice into a near whisper. “If you give me a smile now, I’ll give you my first blowjob later. I’ll even do it while wearing _the suit_.” And, most surprising of all, is that he’s actually kind of looking _forward_ to that.

Now _that_ gets Wade’s attention, and he sits up so quickly that the whole booth jolts with it. He makes a show of pretending to clean out one of his ears. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. Could you repeat that?”

“You heard me just fine.” Peter sits back, humming as he traces Wade’s fingers. “And I just realized something that will make you _very_ happy.” He smiles, big and wide.

“What’s _that_ look about?” Wade narrows his eyes, shoulders hunching in suspicion as he leans forward. “Petey, what shenanigans are you up to? If you don’t share, I’m gonna be _so_ disappointed in you.”

Peter laughs and brings Wade’s hands to his mouth again. This time, he presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist, just shy of the band of the image inducer. “As much as I prefer you without this, you wearing it when we’re out together means that you can keep flirting with the other guy.”

“Wait, really?” Wade’s jaw drops, and he looks from their hands to Peter’s face and back. “Seriously?” His smile splits bright and happy across his face. “Holy shit, you’re _right_. We’re completely anonymous when I use the inducer.” He almost wiggles in his seat. “OMG Petey, I could kiss you right now.”

“Later.” Peter turns his head, looking at the door to the kitchen. A moment later, their waitress shoulders it open with a tray of drinks in hand. He smiles at her and turns back to Wade. “Tell me about your day. Has Weasel lined up any more jobs for you?”

They return to the apartment after dinner to take Aurora for another walk around the block. Since they’ll be heading out right away, something Peter feels _terrible_ about, he gives her a treat before removing his clothes to get to the suit underneath. Wade doesn’t touch his own until Peter is finished getting his mask and gloves out of his coat pocket, if only because he _doesn’t stop staring_. God, what would he have done if Peter hadn’t already been wearing the suit?

It takes a pointed stare before pulling on his mask to get Wade to actually get started on changing. And that requires _him_ to strip down. Peter puts his hands on his hips and watches him change too, grinning widely as Wade does a little tease, starting with turning off the inducer. He sways his hips and hums an offbeat tune as he shrugs out of his jacket and pulls his shirt over his head. His jeans get inched down his hips and his boxers go with them.

Now isn’t that a pretty sight? Peter really needs to stop expecting himself to be turned off by the naked male form. Yet seeing Wade naked, even just for the few seconds before he steps into his suit, is enough to nearly make him _drool_. He needs to think about Aunt May to keep himself from saying ‘ _screw it_ ’ to patrol and going to his knees to keep his promise.

“Let’s get going.” Peter swallows thickly and goes to open the window. “If you keep your hands to yourself, I’ll even let you travel by piggyback.”

“I make no promises.” Wade finishes up with his belts and mask while Peter crawls out the window to perch on the railing of the fire escape.

When he’s ready, Wade comes out after him. The window slides shut, and, a moment later, thick arms wrap around his shoulders. “So what’s gonna be the special word to get this magic carpet ride on the road?”

Peter rolls his eyes and leans forward. He stands up as he tilts over the edge of the railing, keeping his feet stuck to the metal until he’s standing parallel to the ground and Wade is laying across his back. A moment later, muscular legs are wrapping around his hips, and Wade gets a better grip.

“Can I get a yeehaw?”

With a snort, Peter reaches out for the brick wall on the other side of the alley. It’s not very wide, and with the added few feet from the width of the fire escape, he can reach it just fine. He grips it with his fingers and lets his lower half fall to join him. Wade squeaks slightly in his ear and clings a little tighter.

They’ve done this probably a hundred times or more over the time they’ve known each other, and hopefully it never gets old for Wade. It certainly hasn’t for Peter, and he’s been Spider-Man for the majority of his life at this point.

He scurries up the wall, quick as he can, to get to the roof. With a quick sprint across that, he launches himself out over the street with a loud “ _Yeehaw!_ ” It’s nearly drowned out by Wade’s shriek of laughter as they free fall a few stories, only to snap into a swing as his web finds purchase on the corner of a building.

They swing until Peter hears shattering glass, and they divert to drop onto some unexpecting thugs hoping to grab some cash from a business already closed for the evening. It’s only a few minutes of detour for them. A couple bad jokes, a punch or two, a few webs, a quick call to the police, and they’re on their way again.

A mugging in another borough is their next stop, but the bad jokes this time cover up some pretty terrible flirting. Or, at least, Peter _hopes_ it covers it up. The victim doesn’t stick around, and they leave the mugger with a stern lecture and another call to the police, though Peter doubts they’re going to do more than give the guy a slap on the wrist. Without the victim to corroborate the story, it’s really just their word on it. At least the B&E had surveillance cameras that caught it all on tape.

By some miracle, they make it through a whole hour of the patrol before Wade starts being, well, _Wade_. He ramps up his flirting a hundredfold. It starts off tame enough, just whispering in Peter’s ear while they’re swinging through the city—nothing that he hasn’t said before, but it’s so much worse now that they’re _dating_.

Peter never let the flirting and the come ons really get to him before. It was water off of a duck’s back. In one ear and out the other. All because there was no reason for him to pay attention to it. If he felt uncomfortable, it only took one word to make Wade stop. He’d apologize and back off, clam up for a while. Eventually, the compliments on the spandex and his ass would slip back into conversation but never enough to make Peter feel uncomfortable.

And, eerily enough, it’s _not_ making him uncomfortable now. Actually, yes, yes it is. But in an entirely different way. Getting hard in the cup of his suit while swinging hundreds of feet above the heads of innocent New Yorkers is not what Peter would call _comfortable_ , for a start. You think the height would be enough to take Wade’s mind off of sex, but it’s not. It’s definitely, absolutely _not_.

He starts out fairly tame, just complimenting Peter’s body and how nice it feels to hold. And then he moves on to whispering fantasies. Wade goes on at length about all the things he’s wanted— _wants_ —to do. The details and thought he’s put into it is _astounding_ , and Peter tries not to think about how Wade was thinking about him like this while he was married to Mary Jane. That bit might be enough to make him a little uncomfortable, but he’s getting too turned on to care.

“Remember that time when we sat on the Brooklyn Bridge and shared that Moose Tracks ice cream?” Wade’s voice is a deep rumble that nearly gets ripped away by the wind while they swing. “You kept licking your spoon like a porn star. If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn you were coming on to me. Went home and jerked off for _hours_ afterward. Can’t wait to feel your mouth on me, baby boy.”

The only time Wade stops is when they drop down to help a pair of little old ladies cross the street and walk them the rest of the way home, carrying their bags of groceries for them. Wade switches from talking dirty to chatting about the Golden Girls. Having been subjected to a marathon of the series when their friendship was still in the incubation period, Peter is more than able to keep up with them.

As soon as they’re in the air again, Wade is running off at the mouth again with nothing but pure filth. He’s obviously got one thing on his mind, and Peter really shouldn’t have promised him a blow job until later. Once Wade has his sights locked on something he wants, it’s almost impossible to get him to pay attention to anything else.

Which is why Peter mentally apologies to the city of New York as he alters course and starts swinging them back towards his apartment. He just can’t focus like this, so it looks like they’re going to be cutting patrol short tonight.

“Did someone forget to go to the bathroom before we left?” Wade laughs as Peter drops them down on the roof of his building. “Because I’m sure we could’ve found you a Port-A-Potty somewhere you could’ve used. Maybe even just gone down into the Subway. We’ve done that at least once, or was that another fic I’m thinking about?”

Peter ignores him and jumps over the edge of the building, catching the rail of the fire escape one floor up and using it to swing them onto the one outside his window. Wade lets go, still chattering about how badly Peter must have to go. Peter’s movements are a little more rushed than he would like them to be as he jerks the window open and shoves Wade through ahead of him. He tumbles in after him, using his foot to close the window behind him.

“Oh, _someone’s_ really gotta go!” Wade laughs and gets to his feet.

“You are—” Peter stands up and pushes his mask up over his nose. “—the most—” He grabs Wade by the strap of his katanas to pull him closer. “— _infuriating_ man—” Wade’s mask hits the floor. “—I have _ever_ met.”

And the best way to shut him up is to kiss him.

Wade still laughs through it, still _doesn’t stop talking_. “Too easy, Petey. Only takes a few words to rile you up like this? Too fucking _easy_. Should’ve bought me a dog _ages_ ago if that’s all I needed to catch you.”

Speaking of dogs, Aurora is _very_ excited to see them. It seems she made herself a little nest on the bed while they were away. She has a whole little cushion shaped like a crown just for her, and yet she still picked Peter’s crappy mattress instead. Her little yips fill the room as she gets up from the little hollow she made herself in the mess of blankets.

“Aura.”

Peter gives her that reprimanding tone that hushes her up instantly. He walks forward, herding Wade across the room. Aurora sits at the edge of the bed, looking at them with her little head tilted and her tongue hanging out. Her small tail, curled just right, thumps mutely against the bedding. She’s too innocent to see what’s about to happen.

With one finger against Wade’s chest, Peter pushes him back against the wall at the end of the bed. “Do _not_ move.”

“You can’t tell me that, Petey. You know I’m just gonna wanna do the opposite of it.” Wade laughs, but he still shifts his weight back against it.

Once he’s sure Wade isn’t going to move, Peter turns to scoop up the abandoned rawhide and Aurora’s bed. “Aura, come.”

She launches off the bed with a thump, claws skittering on the faux hardwood. It’s a little mean of him, but he’s not going to be able to do this with her watching him. Peter puts the bed in the bathroom and teases Aurora with the rawhide until it has her attention. She nestles down on the bed with it between her teeth, and Peter shuts the door on his way out. It’ll only be for a short time, hopefully.

“Aw, poor thing. You just locked her up like that. Petey, how could you?”

Peter ignores him and steps right up into his space again. He looks Wade dead in the eye because he wants to _see_ the realization in his face as he lays his hands on his hips. Slowly, and with very clear intent, Peter slides him up the wall.

“Holy _fuck_.” Wade’s eyes go wide and he breathes in sharply. “Pete. _Pete_.” His hands come up to clamp over Peter’s, grip tight as he keeps going up, and up, and _up_. “Oh my Jesus flapjack flippin’ Christ.”

It doesn’t take _too_ long for Wade to get the idea but certainly longer than Peter thought it would. Once he’s high enough, he hooks his legs over Peter’s shoulders, which effectively puts Peter’s face very much in line with Wade’s crotch. That’s kind of the whole point of this and entirely his intention, but God if it isn’t intimidating now that he’s actually faced with it.

“This is the hottest thing to ever happen to me.” Wade almost wheezes above him, his hands fluttering from Peter’s wrists to his elbows and back again.

Peter licks his lips and tilts his head to look up at him. “I’ve never given a blowjob before, so don’t you _dare_ make fun of me for this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Spidey.” Wade fumbles at the front of his pants, scrabbling to get them open since he knows his suit the best, and Peter’s hands are kind of busy holding him up.

Unsurprisingly, Wade is already hard when he manages to unzip and get his dick out. Wow, okay, he’s a lot bigger than Peter expected. He was expecting big after what he felt the other morning, but this is still—Man. Now he totally understands why Wade is so confident all the time, even if half of it is bullcrap.

When it comes to what they’re packing in their pants, Peter is the epitome of the average dick. Wade is bigger in girth _and_ length, and Peter is suddenly very much doubting that he’s going to be able to fit all of it in his mouth. He never even considered his gag reflex.

Okay. _Okay_. He can do this. As long as he doesn’t focus on smell or taste, he should be able to do this. Just… Just _do it_. Wade definitely seemed to enjoy giving him one the other day, and Mary Jane always said she liked to give them. Felicia did it, but she made it a point to say she wasn’t a fan. She always wanted to make sure he knew that she was doing him a favor whenever she _did_ do it.

Peter purges his brain of any thoughts and ducks forward, closing his eyes as he starts by mouthing at the base of Wade’s dick. The first thing he notes is the salty taste of sweat, followed by something deeper and more bitter. Musk, he realizes when he breathes through his nose for the first time.

Nope. Not thinking about it. Just doing it! But, wow, the scars make for an interesting texture.

He breathes through his mouth from this point on, working his way up with kitten licks and open-mouthed kisses to the head. This is no different from when he used to go down on Mary Jane or Felicia. Almost exactly the same. Except for the fact that there’s a hard dick against his lips, and a deep, very _male_ voice babbling incoherently above him.

Wade paws at the top of his mask weakly, still not entirely sure of what he should be doing with his hands. Peter gets to the head and swipes his tongue across it, wrinkling his noses at the bitter tang of pre-come. He’s suddenly struck by the desire to have Wade’s hands in his hair. That’s something familiar, something he _liked_ , and it would probably be helpful to have right now.

“Take your gloves off.” Peter licks again, trying to get used to the taste. He dips his head down to suckle at the base again, hair tickling his nose. He used to like this alot when Mary Jane would do it for him, so hopefully Wade will too.

If Wade hadn’t basically sucked his brain out through his dick the other morning, Peter would be trying to remember what he did for him. Naturally, Wade probably gave him the kind of blow job that he enjoys getting. No wonder, because it was downright _amazing,_ and his memories are a hazy blur of pleasure.

Wade’s gloves hit the floor as Peter ducks his head more, mouthing wetly at his balls because those always need attention. He curls his tongue around one and then the other before pulling back again.

“Now, take my mask off.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” The enthusiastic reply is tempered by an honest-to-God whimper. Wade yanks the mask off him and tosses it across the room to be fished out from behind the bed later on, probably.

Peter smiles up at him and very purposefully licks from root to head while holding eye contact. “I want you to pull my hair while I’m doing this.”

“Oh _fuck_.” Wade breathes out on a hiss and wastes no time in threading his fingers into Peter’s hair. “This has gotta be some kind of wet dream.”

This is very much reality, and Peter grins right before he wraps his lips around the head of Wade’s dick and gives it a good, hard _suck_. This has Wade jolting in his arms, head thumping back against the wall and hands going tight in his hair. It’s just what he wanted and Peter groans quietly in the back of his throat, staying right where he is and suckling there until Wade is a blubbering mess above him.

He’s barely even had time to appreciate the weight of Wade’s dick on his tongue before his hair is being pulled harder than before. “Fuck, _fuck_! Spidey, _please—_ I’m—!”

Is he really that close? They’ve barely just begun! Not that Peter minds too much. It’s a little flattering, actually.

Peter ignores the plea and all subsequent ones that follow, and he keeps going. It makes sense (to him at least) that he should take as much as he can before Wade comes. He has to remind himself to breathe through his nose as he keeps sinking down, lower and lower until his gag reflex finally kicks in.

Apparently, it’s pretty strong, because the moment it goes too far back, Peter gags. This time, Wade grabs him by the sides of his head to jerk him back. A moment later, and he’s coming in hot spurts across Peter’s face.

Wade continues to swear, colourfully and loudly, as he clambers down from Peter’s shoulders. He swipes a thumb through the mess he made, eyes wide and full of wonder. Peter doesn’t have the chance to say anything. The moment he opens his mouth, Wade is on him again, kissing him soundly and forcing him back and back again until he bumps into the sliver of wall between his bookcase and the door.

Hands fumble at his waist, and Peter gets the idea pretty darn quickly. He finds the line of his suit a lot faster than Wade ever could and pulls his shirt up enough to give him a fighting chance, grinning into the kiss as Wade groans his approval. Peter laughs and drops his head back against the wall as Wade shoves his hand past the waistband and right down into the cup.

At this point, Peter really should stop feeling surprised to find that he’s _aroused_. He already knows that he finds Wade sexy and _definitely_ attractive. But _giving_ a blow job is way different from _receiving_ one. Guess his body must’ve liked it quite a lot.

Wade sets a brutal pace at jerking him off, bringing him to the edge quickly and efficiently while sucking purposefully at the side of his neck. There’s probably going to be a hickey the size of Manhattan there soon enough, but it’ll be gone by the morning.

Peter ends up coming in his pants like a teenager, but at least he didn’t come as fast as Wade did. So that’s a bonus. He also doesn’t care, because Wade is whispering in his ear about how beautiful he is, and how lucky he feels to be allowed this, and _still_ doesn’t shut up about all the dirty things he wants to do to him.

They pull apart panting, and Wade grins down at him. “So how was your first blow job?”

“I don’t know. You came too quickly.” Peter shrugs and grins back, though he’s going to need to change soon because he hates coming in his cup. And he refuses to admit how often an occurrence that is.

Wade’s jaw drops in a positively _scandalized_ gasp. He steps back sharply, hand clutching at his chest. Peter just laughs and shakes his head. “It wasn’t that bad, honestly. I think I could probably do that again.”

Like a switch is flipped, Wade is smiling again. He props his elbow against the wall and leans over Peter with that cocky grin. “How about now?”

“ _Now_?” Peter looks down and, yup. “Holy crap.”

“Petey, Petey, Petey.” Wade laughs and chucks him under the chin like he’s a child. “I heal, babe. It’s literally _my thing_. It’s sweet you think I even _have_ a refractory period.”

Oh God. That’s almost a little horrifying, honestly, if not a little bit intriguing. Marathon sex would actually be able to be a _thing_. Peter never really put to the test whether his own healing abilities (which aren’t too shabby, thank you very much) affect his refractory period too. He has the feeling that Wade would _jump_ at experimenting to figure that out.

And maybe now might be that time.

Sighing, Peter rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, okay.” He tugs out the waistband of his pants again. “Let me go change, and I could try again.”

“ _Yes_!” Wade kisses Peter on the cheek quickly and steps away, starting to undo his own belts and buckles to shrug out of his holsters and harnesses.

By the time Peter comes out of the bathroom, his clothing soaking in the tub and Aurora having been given a good rubdown, Peter finds Wade naked and spread out on his bed. The blankets are pushed up at the head of the bed, adding more to the pillows to lay against. Wade wasn’t kidding when he said that he likes being comfortable. He has his arms tucked behind his head and his ankles crossed, and he looks _very_ pleased with himself.

A bubble of warmth settles behind Peter’s ribs, and he slides a knee onto the bed, smiling. For round two, he thinks he’s going to take his time. Especially now that Wade is _fully_ naked, and everything is on display. Even with the lights off in the room, there’s still plenty of light coming in through the window, and Peter can see _everything_. It’s making his mouth water, and he’s very much on board with going again.

This time, however, he’s going to worship Wade from head to toe. He seems to think that Peter still prefers him with the image inducer, and this is his chance to prove otherwise. And, hey, maybe he’ll be back up and running for his own round two by the time he’s reduced Wade to a satisfied puddle of goo.


	10. Tuesday

It’s very rare for someone to actually call him while he’s at work. So rare, in fact, that Peter rarely even actually turns the ringer off. His heart darn near jackrabbits out of his chest when it starts jingling away in his pocket. He scrambles to get it out and silence it as several dirty looks are thrown at him from those sitting around him.

What surprises him the most, as it turns out, is not the fact that it rang at all, but that it’s Mary Jane’s name on the screen. He swipes to answer the call with one hand while saving his work and locking his computer with the other.

As soon as he’s able, he jumps up and runs for the hall outside the bullpen where the majority of reporters and photographers work. It becomes _infinitely_ quieter once the door shuts behind him, and he puts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, MJ, what’s up?” He leans against the wall next to the door. “Is everything okay?”

She’s quiet for a moment too long, prompting him to check that he didn’t lose the call in the time it took to get from his desk out here. The call is still going, and he frowns at the timer ticking upwards. “MJ?”

“ _I thought about it_.” Mary Jane sighs, and, for the first time since they were divorced, she sounds tired. That defeated tone is one Peter is all too familiar with. She used it whenever she gave up on an argument because he just would not back down on any Spider-Man related topic.

“Oh.” He shifts in place and stands up a little straighter, heart suddenly in his throat. “And?”

Mary Jane takes another long moment to answer. “ _I think that if you’re able to give Aurora a good home, then she should stay with you._ ” And now that’s her _sad_ voice. “ _If this last week has proven anything to me, it’s that I’m not going to be home a lot. It won’t be fair to Aurora that she **might** only see me a few hours a night and spends the rest of her time alone or with a dog walker._”

Peter is simultaneously ecstatic for Wade and Ellie and heartbroken for Mary Jane. “She’ll still be in the family, MJ. You can come see her every time you’re back in New York, and I bet Wade will set up an Instagram for her. So you can see her all the time on that.”

She laughs, but it’s a wet little sound that makes Peter want to fly across the country just to hold her. “ _Thank you, Pete_.”

“And we can pay for her. I mean, Wade already told you he’s willing to, and he was serious.” He shifts on his feet again, wracking his brain to try and figure out what else he can do to make her smile again. “I can return the money you gave me too, and—”

“ _Peter_.” Oh God. She’s serious. “ _It’s fine, Tiger. You can keep the money._ ”

Yeah, no. He’s definitely not keeping the money. There’s no chance that he’s going to have his ex-wife basically pay to have her dog adopted by someone else. If anything, they absolutely should be the ones paying for Aurora, even if it makes his inner Scrooge wince painfully at the idea of spending that much money.

Mary Jane takes his silence for agreement. “ _Great. I’ll send you her papers and everything. I think I’m going to have to contact the vet to let them know that she’s being adopted, but you should probably reach out to them too and give them your info, and—_ ”

“ **PARKER**!”

The wall at his back actually vibrates with the force of the shout. Peter winces and rubs a hand over his face. “I think I need to go.”

“ _Jesus Christ._ ” Mary Jane laughs. “ _Was that Jameson_?”

“Yeah, I’m at work.” Peter pulls the door open, leans through it, and pulls the phone away from his mouth. “Coming!” He straightens and puts it back to his ear. “I gotta go, MJ, but thank you. I know that wasn’t an easy decision, but you’ve just made three people and a dog _very_ happy.”

“ _Wait… Three people?_ ” Crap. He shouldn’t have said that. “ _I thought it was just you and—_ ”

Peter clears his throat to speak over her, probably a little too quick and loud to sell his lie. “I’m talking about Aunt May.” And he makes a mental note to talk to Aunt May _immediately_ that she absolutely cannot talk about Ellie to other people, Mary Jane included. “Wade and I had dinner with her on Sunday, and it’s obvious that she adores Aurora.” Mary Jane tries talking again, but he keeps going. “But I really gotta go, MJ. I’ll be fired if Jameson has to shout for me again.”

“ _Yeah, yeah_.” She sighs, and he can practically hear her roll her eyes at him. “ _Good luck with Deadpool, Tiger. I know we’re not really in a place where we can gossip with each other, but I’d love to hear about how things are going with you one day. We… We didn’t work out as husband and wife, but you’ve always been one of my best friends._ ”

A month ago, heck, even a _week_ ago, Peter would have said that was impossible. Now, he pictures Wade and Aurora waiting for him back at his apartment, and he smiles. He can only imagine how much Ellie is going to scream when she learns that Aurora is theirs for the keeping. He’s _healed_ a lot in a very short time, and there’s three individuals responsible for it.

Things have only really changed for him in the last week. Maybe they’re rushing things, but it feels good. It feels _right_.

“I think we could do that.” Peter’s smile is genuine as he nods. “I’ll talk to you later, MJ.”

“ _Later, Tiger._ ”

He hangs up and ducks back into the bullpen, beelining for Jameson’s office. It’s still early in his work day, and there are _hours_ to go before he’ll see Wade in person again. Peter can’t wait that long to tell him the good news. He’ll call Wade on his lunch break to give him the good news— right after he grins and bears getting yelled at for an unknown amount of time.

Peter has a bag of groceries in hand as he shoulders the front door to his apartment building open. He’s focused on his phone and in the middle of opening his messages to Wade (which have been suspiciously silent since he told him earlier about Aurora) when he walks past the landlord’s suite by the bottom of the stairs.

The door swings open suddenly and, for the second time today, someone shouts his name in a vaguely threatening way. “Parker!”

He flinches away from the steely eyed little Asian woman, juggling his phone a little bit before he manages to clutch it tightly to his chest. “Missus Takamoto! Uh—What’s up? I mean, good afternoon!”

“I’ve been waiting for you for _hours_.” She stomps out of her apartment in her slippers and curlers, rocking that _Kung Fu Hustle_ vibe. “Turn over your keys.”

“My… keys?” Peter frowns and brings a hand to pat at the pocket of his coat where his keys are currently sitting. “Why would I give you—? I paid up my rent until the end of the month, and I have enough for next month too. I promise! I can even give it early if you want me to.”

Mrs. Takamoto blinks rapidly for a moment before putting her hands on her hips. “But that big burly man said you were moving out. He even took all your stuff.”

Peter knows exactly who she’s talking about, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Could you describe the big burly man for me, please?”

“The handsome blond one.” She even gets a bit of a dreamy look in her eyes, smiling for the first time since he’s known her. She gestures well above her head and still falls short of the actual height of the man she’s describing. “Very tall, with eyes that make a girl melt.”

Bingo. “Wade.”

“Yes, that’s him.” She nods and not a single curler moves. “He had that dog your ex-wife left with you too.”

Peter runs a hand through his hair and looks at the ceiling, briefly praying for the strength to not throw Wade off a roof the next time they patrol together. “But, Missus Takamoto, I’m not actually moving out.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “ _He_ said you were.” After ruffling around in the pocket of her housecoat for a moment, she surfaces with a thick looking envelope. “Even paid off the rest of your lease!”

That sounds _exactly_ like something Wade would do, and Peter’s torn between incredulous and anger in his response to it. “Well, this is all news to me.” And, knowing Mrs. Takamoto, he’s not going to be able to talk her into letting him stay. Especially given his track record with rent over the last year.

Peter is just about to unclip the keys from his keychain when he remembers certain sensitive things he has hidden around his apartment. He clutches his keys to his chest and gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Can I—Would you let me go check the unit to make sure he got everything? I could give you my keys on the way out?”

Mrs. Takamoto stares him down with a steely squint before flapping a hand at the stairs. “Fine. But five minutes only! My nephew is coming to clean it.” She breaks into a wide, smug smile. “I want to start showing that unit as soon as possible.”

Wow, she works fast. Wade couldn’t have moved his stuff out that long ago!

“Yes, thank you!” Peter nods and sprints off up the stairs, taking two at a time before he’s certain no one will notice him running up them a little _too_ fast for a normal person.

Sure enough, his apartment is empty, just like she said. Peter groans and stands in the middle of the room, looking around at the distinct lack of his things. Even without all his stuff here, it still feels tiny. Less crowded, but tiny.

First things first, Peter climbs the wall and shifts one of the drop panels over. He pokes his head in and checks the spot where he put his notebook with his formulas for his webbing. Both it and the bundle with his extra suit are gone. The hole he cut into the back of the closet is also empty, or so he assumes because it’s been freshly plastered over. Even the extra web cartridges he has triple bagged inside the toilet tank are gone.

Wade quite literally cleaned the place out. That would be impressive, if Peter wasn’t unnerved by this, and kinda ticked off.

He checks the cupboards and the fridge, and they’re all empty. Wade even got the flash drive version of the notebook that he kept taped to the underside of the utensil drawer.

Satisfied, and disgruntled, Peter heads back down. Mrs. Takamoto is waiting exactly where he left her, and he turns over his keys with what probably comes out as a grimace more than a smile. He’d ask to have his mail forwarded, but he has the feeling Wade will probably already have taken care of it. Not that Peter gets anything more than flyers, nowadays. Most of his important stuff comes to him by email.

Peter’s groceries are almost completely forgotten as he gets his phone out and pulls up Wade’s contact information. He’s going to give him a piece of his mind and demand to know where Wade took all his stuff.

“Hey, handsome!”

“Wade.” Peter looks up from his phone and then down at Aurora as she comes bounding over to him, her tail wagging excitedly. Wade has the leash and he follows behind her so she can get all the way to Peter.

“Did’ja miss me?” Wade leans in to kiss him, but Peter leans back.

He crosses his arms and frowns. “Where’s all my stuff, Wade?”

“My place.” Wade jerks his arm over his shoulder. Peter doesn’t know where all of his safe houses are, but it’s entirely possible that one of them lies in that direction somewhere. “It’s nicer than your shoebox, and Rihanna deserves better. _You_ deserve better.”

Peter sighs and rubs at his forehead. “Wade. You can’t just move me out of my apartment without asking me.”

“Well, I was _going_ to ask, but then I realized that you might say ‘no’ to the whole thing, and I didn’t want that.” Wade rocks back and forth on his feet, his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Figured I might as well go ahead and do it. Cuz’, y’know how the saying goes, right? Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.”

Because of course that’s the way that Wade would think. Peter groans and drags his hand down his face. “We’re going to need to have some _words_ about that.”

Some of the smug deflates out of him, and Wade hunches his shoulders. “Aw, do we have to?”

“Yes, Wade, we _do_.” Peter steps off the final stair of the stoop and crouches to give Aurora the pets she’s so desperately waiting for. “Words about _boundaries_ and _communication_ , and how the heck you found all the stuff I had hidden.”

“X-ray specs.”

Peter does a bit of a double take as he stands up, surprised to find Wade looking at him so seriously. “You said that so quickly and confidently that I’m not actually sure if you do or do not have x-ray glasses.”

“I do.” Wade pats himself on the chest, presumably over an inside pocket where he has said glasses. “They’re great for finding hidden shit. Not so much for peeping at people. All I ever see are bones, unless they’ve got something interesting like a pacemaker or a steel plate in their head, y’know?”

He tilts his head and grins when he realizes Peter is just staring at him. “What?”

“I don’t believe you.” Because who in their right mind would have ever sold or made something like that for _Deadpool_. The shenanigans he could get up to with those glasses are practically countless.

“You should always believe me, Petey.” Wade loops his arm through Peter’s and starts walking them down the sidewalk. “My bullshit is rarely actually bullshit. Now c’mon. Adele needs some exercise. She’s been napping at our place all day.”

Truthfully, Peter should pull away. He should reprimand Wade more and lay down some rules, but he’s honestly just… not in the mood right now. It was a long day at work, and he’d rather go get something to eat and relax with his dog and his boyfriend for a while.

“Yeah, okay.” Peter sighs and leans his head against Wade’s shoulder as they walk. He’s only slightly annoyed by the few inches of height difference between them. “Which apartment am I apparently going to be living in now? And how much is the rent?”

“I feel like I’m going to get punched if I say you can pay rent in sexual favours.”

“You’re right. You _would_ get punched for that.”

Wade laughs and squeezes his arm. “We can talk about rent later. Even though you don’t actually have to pay any and should save that money for school. I would like to reiterate that I am _one quadrillion percent_ all for being your Sugar Daddy.”

“And I would like to reiterate that I am _one flippityjillion percent_ against being your Sugar Baby.” Peter sighs and closes his eyes, trusting Wade and his spidey-senses to keep him from bumping into anything. “Let’s not argue right now, okay? It’s been a long day.”

“Is that a ‘no’ on welcome home blow jobs when we get back to the apartment?” Wade wilts slightly, jostling Peter’s head more than is comfortable.

Peter straightens again with a sigh. “You’re like a dog with a—” He snaps his jaw shut in the middle of the sentence. “Never mind.”

“Go on, Petey. Finish what you were gonna say.” Wade grins and leans into his side. “Tell me what I’m like. Were you going to say dog with a _bone_?” He drops his voice into a low, sultry register, which shouldn’t be possible given how deep and rough his voice normally is. “Because I’ve got a hell of a _bone_ I could show you.”

A snort of laughter escapes Peter before he can stop himself. He tries _so hard_ , but he can barely stop himself from laughing, and loudly. He jabs Wade in the side with his elbow, steals the leash from his hand, and scoops Aurora up into his arms. She squeaks and immediately tries licking at his chin. It tickles, and Peter stifles his giggle as he sprints off down the sidewalk.

“Petey!” Wade shouts after him, and Peter can’t hold back his laughter anymore. It punches out of him and he feels light and airy. He feels _alive_ and _happy_ in a way he hasn’t felt in an absurd amount of time.

He kisses Aurora on the head, so grateful that she was the lynchpin in causing all of this.


	11. Friday

With a little bit of planning and more than a little begging to Betty, Peter was able to arrange his schedule so that he could be off work before Ellie is supposed to get out of class. Wade and Aurora (and Dopinder) picked him up from work, and they went straight to her school to wait down the street for her.

As the kids start coming out, Wade leaves Peter at the corner and jogs over. Peter stays half-tucked around the corner, watching with Aurora at his feet. She’s dressed up for Ellie today, her collar all nicely polished and the little heart shaped rhinestones standing out against the red of it. He foresees Wade and Ellie buying her a whole collection of collars and tiny dog clothing.

Aurora really has no idea what she’s in for, but Peter has the feeling that she’s going to love all the attention she’ll be getting.

From where he’s standing, Peter has a perfect view of Ellie almost flying down the stairs and launching herself into Wade’s arms. He swings her up onto his shoulders after giving her a big kiss on the cheek. They’re already talking animatedly between each other before Wade starts them back up the sidewalk to where Peter is waiting.

He steps back behind the corner and out of sight. The last thing he wants to do is let Ellie spy them out and ruin the surprise. Aurora sits at his feet, looking up at him with her dark eyes and little tongue lolling out. She’s practically vibrating in excitement, probably because she can hear the sounds of excited school kids and is getting a contact high from it or something.

“It’ll just be a minute, Aura.” He squats to give her a good scratch behind the ear and fix a tuft of fur that’s somehow going in the wrong direction. “Then you’ll get to see your favourite girl again.”

Wade’s booming voice precedes them before they come around the corner, and Peter stands up quickly, stepping forward so he’s hiding Aurora behind him. “—right in the face! Luckily, your awesome dad was right there to avenge Spidey’s honour.”

Ellie has a question halfway out her mouth, but she cuts off with a gasp as Wade steps around the corner and she spots him. “Peter-Peter-Pumpkin-Eater!”

“You already used that one.” Peter grins and waves. “Hey, kiddo. How’re you doing?”

“Ooo, that looks sore.” She gestures at the fading shiner over his left eye. “Dad wasn’t lying about Rhino punchin’ you in the face, huh?”

“No, no he was not.” Peter touches his cheek and winces. “Luckily, this should be healed up before tomorrow morning. Wouldn’t want to scare the monkeys at the zoo.”

Ellie sits up a little straighter, eyes bright. “We’re going to the zoo?”

“Sure are!” Wade bounces in place, just as excited. He deflates just as quick. “Too bad Eevee won’t be able to come with us. Petey checked the rules, and little pups aren’t allowed.”

That makes Ellie go very, _very_ still. “But you said your ex would be taking her back this week.”

“We also said that we were asking Mary Jane to let us keep her.” Peter steps to the side and gestures down. “Ta-dah!”

Ellie shrieks and starts squirming, trying to climb down on her own. “Put me down! Put me down! I gotta see my baby!”

Wade slides her off his shoulders, and Ellie drops to her knees the moment her feet touch the ground. “Hufflepuff!” She scoops Aurora up into her arms. “Oh, oh, oh! I missed you!”

“You should check what her collar says.” Wade crouches down to Ellie’s height too, clearly feeling left out in giving Aurora some love too in the form of some scratches behind the ears.

She has to put Aurora down for that, and it’s clear she does it with great reluctance. Ellie has to turn the collar around and part all the fluff to be able to actually read any of the tags. There are three—one fancy looking one that Mary Jane had officially made with Aurora’s name on it, one with the vetting information, and a third that Wade came home with yesterday.

Ellie reads it out. “ _If found, please return to Peter, Wade, or Ellie at_ …” The address is lost to a gasp. “She really _is_ ours!”

“Heck yes, she is, baby girl!” Wade cups the side of her head and pulls her close enough to press a kiss into her hair. “We’re living permanently in the good apartment, so that’s where Aurora will always be if you wanna see her whenever the Prestons will allow it.”

With a squeal, Ellie jumps up. Peter fully expects her to hug Wade and cover his face in kisses, giggling through the buzz of the image inducer. He’s pleasantly surprised when she barrels right into him instead, burying her face in his stomach.

“Thank you, thank you, _thank you_.”

He blinks back some tears and hugs her back. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

It’s almost unbelievable how quickly she warmed up to him. Granted, if she’s anything like her father, Peter can imagine why. He never wants to know exactly what kind of stories Wade told her about Spider-Man, but those probably played into how easily Ellie adjusted to him being around—and his relationship with Wade.

Naturally, when she’s done with the hugs, Ellie takes Aurora’s leash. Surprisingly, she takes Peter’s hand with her free one instead of Wade’s, but that means Peter gets that honour. He wiggles his fingers until Wade fits his between them and falls into step next to him as they start off towards where Dopinder managed to find a parking space. Wade’s grin goes from ear to ear, and there’s a pep in his step that Peter wishes would _always_ be there.

He returns the smile with one of his own, knowing he looks just as happy. “Let’s go home.”

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my very first Big Bang, and I am _very_ happy to have been talked into it. Jennicide was a fantastic partner who made the whole thing easy, and I'm so happy to have been paired with her! ♥ I've made some great new friends on the Bromantic server, and I look forward to writing more in this fandom.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and please do check out the amazing works and art that have gone up this month! SPBB 2020 has created some fantastic works, so don't miss out!


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